


Mulan Au - I'll make a man out of you

by Littlemistake



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Are those just muscles or are you just happy to see me, Armor sex, Ben is a bad ass with a sword, Big Ben needs a Big Horsey, Booty camp, Depictions of Battle, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Forbidden Love, Historical Inaccuracy, Learning to Fight, Men have disgusting habits, Minor Character Death, Mulan AU, Rey is a bad ass with a staff, Rey is training in the thirsty arts, Rey knows her way around a staff, Rey never wants to see another naked man again (sure Rey), Rey wants to climb Ben's pole, Self Defence, THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED, The Captain has a mighty fine sword, These tag write themselves and I don't make the rules, They are not disgusting - they are men, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Vaginal Sex, armour sex, deadly violence, learning to fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:48:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23219527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littlemistake/pseuds/Littlemistake
Summary: After killing the son of a Unkar Plutt in self defence, Rey is forced to masquerade as a man in  the Imperial Army to escape his revenge. Under the direction of Captain Ben Solo, it is not just her skills as a fighter that grow but her feelings too. Then it gets confusing for everyone, especially the Captain.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 100
Kudos: 334





	1. The Lesson

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aimz777](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aimz777/gifts).



> This story might be familiar to a few of you, after languishing for about eight months I have decided to dust it off again - plus as a self proclaimed attention whore I thought with the movie coming out there might be more interest second time around
> 
> It’s a romp, it's an adventure and there is plenty of opportunity for Rey to ogle the Captain’s chest so hopefully all is forgiven.
> 
> I will be updating chapters daily because why the hell not.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey has a chance encounter with Captain Solo of the Imperial Army, with disastrous consequences.

The night was still and silent as the guard completed his patrol of the northern section of the Great Wall. The wall took advantage of the terrain, following the highest points and clinging to ridges, providing a stunning panoramic view to the valley below by day. By night, fire lit the endless wind of the stone structure, and it was almost as if the lanterns hung in the sky as the wall dropped into darkness. 

The falcon’s wings were silent as it approached the guard, giving no warning as it grasped his helmet in its sharp claws. The bird of prey landed atop a nearby flag pole, its shriek echoing across the valley, as it allowed the helmet to clatter to the ground.

In response to the call, the clang of metal against stone rang through the air, causing the guard to yelp and spin around to see its origin. He gasped as he spotted the solitary grappling hook that rested against the wall.

Before he could call out a warning, dozens of hooks were suddenly flying into the air above him, each reaching its target.

Realising that he and the kingdom were in imminent danger, instinct and training kicked in as the guard grabbed the nearest fire lantern, running to the ladder leading to the top of the watchtower.

“We’re under attack! Light the signal!” He called out to his fellow soldiers stationed further down the wall as he tossed the lantern into the signal cauldron. Igniting immediately, the flames licked at his face and he lost his grip. Recovering quickly, he wrapped his arm around a lower rung for dear life, his feet dangling in the air like a marionette. It was only a matter of moments until the cauldrons at the top of the other towers along the wall were similarly ablaze. 

The guard watched in horror as soldier after soldier breached the wall. Instantly recognising the dark, foreboding armor of the First Order, the guard was aware that their reputation for death and destruction was known across the land. Horror quickly turned to terror as the last man rose over the wall, his unmistakable gold armor meaning only one thing.

Snoke himself was here, and it heralded grave danger for the Empress.

Surrounded by the enemy, the guard knew his time in the realm of the living would soon end. Summoning every last ounce of courage, he stared down at the Supreme Leader of the First Order who, in the flesh, was even more terrifying than his lore had whispered.

“You are too late, now all of Takodana knows you are here!” he cried, pointing to the signals dotted along the vast expanse of the wall.

The Supreme Leader nodded to the two soldiers next to him, and they rushed at the ladder, pulling the man down by his legs. Once upon the ground, the guard was unceremoniously dragged before Snoke, then roughly dumped in a heap at his feet.

Snoke stretched out his arm, the falcon immediately swooping down to perch.

“Hold him,” he nodded to the two men, who responded by each grabbing an arm of the hapless guard.

“General Hux, your sword,” he said, his cold eyes still boring down on his prisoner. 

From behind him, a tall, thin, red headed man stepped out, drawing his weapon in readiness.

The guard began to whimper and shake, and prayed that his end would be swift and merciful - given the haste of the invaders to catch the Imperial Army by surprise.

As a rule, the First Order were not renowned for swift and merciful execution of their captives. Quite the opposite.

Snoke nodded at his General, who placed the tip of his blade at the base of the man’s throat.

Snoke stooped down to look the guard directly in the eyes, the bird still resting on his arm, only inches away from the man’s face. Scars and craters of his fire-scorched face were terrifying up close, his skin stretched almost to the breaking point across his bare skull. It added a demonic element to an already inhuman being.

“Yes,” he said slowly. There was a slithering, unfurling quality to his tone. “Now all of Takodana knows the mighty First Order has invaded, is coming for the Empress, and to claim the throne.” 

Snoke gave the signal to his General. The man gave a gurgling cry as the General’s sword plunged into his sternum, the blade purposefully missing his jugular vein to maximize the opportunity for a slow, agonizing death.

The soldiers let the arms of the dying man go, leaving him to helplessly clutch his throat to stem the flow of blood. But it was too late, death was inevitable and he would soon join his ancestors.

“Perfect,” Snoke said, savoring the word as it dripped from his tongue.

_____________

The green of the Takondana mountains provided the backdrop against the still blue of Nymeve Lake. The cold water lapped at Rey’s ankles, making her shiver, as she adopted her fighting stance. She held her quarterstaff above the water in a defensive position, in readiness of what was to come. 

“In this round, you must avoid falling into the water,” Maz instructed. “Even at a disadvantage, you must find a way to gain the upper hand. Never concede.”

Rey nodded, and bared her teeth. Maz charged. Rey knew it was foolish to assume that Maz’s stature meant she was an easy opponent to claim victory over. The bruises, bumps and scrapes from years of combat training were testament to that.

Maz angled her staff to hit Rey square between the ribs, holding it high beside her head. She let loose her trademark battle cry, and Rey was easily able to deflect the blow with her staff. The loud crack of wood against wood rang out across the water. Rey knew it was just for openers—Maz always liked to start a sparring round with pageantry.

Maz careened off to the left, then doubled back to aim for Rey’s leg, releasing another blood-curdling scream. Rey, sensing the move, launched herself into the air. Spinning herself to avoid the blow, she landed surefooted back in the water. The chill was forgotten as she remained fully focused on her adversary, anticipating Maz’s next attack while assessing her first opportunity to launch her own offense.

The two women squared off again, the sound of water breaking over their feet the only sound as they circled each other.

Rey twirled her staff, impulsively deciding to launch her own charge at Maz with her weapon. She was intent on striking low on her employer's calves to send her toppling into the water. Forcing all her power into her arms as she raised her staff, she focused on her intended move.

Maz stood her ground, only to move at the final moment prior to contact - sidestepping the attack - then executing her own counter move. Maz brought her staff down onto Rey’s, forcing it down into the water as Rey’s momentum thrusted it deep into the silty lake bed. It was akin to quicksand, the immediate suction forcing Rey off balance. Maz spun around, using her own momentum to launch a high kick that connected with Rey’s rib cage. Rey yelped, the sound transforming into a bellow as Maz bought her staff down hard on Rey’s upper arm. Rey was already in a free fall and, unable to save herself, sprawled into the water on her hands and knees. 

Thankfully the soft lake bed that had captured her staff also provided a cushion for landing, even if the water immediately chilled her to the bone. 

“Maz, that hurt!” She slapped her hands down on the water, the splash echoing her frustration. 

Maz was characteristically unapologetic, tossing Rey’s quarterstaff into the water next to her. Rey shielded her face from the large splash it created. Her mouth set into a hard line.

“Men are capable of inflicting much more damage than a bruised arm and a bruised ego. The world is not a safe place for a woman with no father, brother or husband to protect her. I will not always be here to keep you safe. You must try harder,” she said, her lips clenching together. “You have passion and talent, but you must harness it, rather than let it harness you. It will be your undoing.”

Maz spoke the truth. Her ability to use her wits, hands, and staff were the only protection she would have if her employer - and protector - was not around. She would fetch a pretty sum at the local pleasure parlor, willing or not. Indeed, for some men, their preference for an unwilling, untouched woman was worth paying a premium.

“What was the lesson just now?” Maz asked.

Rey considered her response. “Never overextend your reach. Never leave yourself open.” 

“Good.” Maz nodded. “Again.”

Rey grunted as she rose to her feet again with determination, her wet training clothes clinging to her uncomfortably, and the rivulets of water pouring from her staff. She adopted the warrior's stance to begin sparring again.

____________

That evening, as per usual, she was serving at the castle bar with Maz. The patrons were especially boisterous; with word the First Order had crossed the wall there was a particularly dangerous undercurrent in the room. The potential for battle and death spurred a surge of aggression. 

Rey rolled her eyes at their behavior; it was a never-ending stream of metaphorical dick-measuring competitions and one upmanship. Maz was always at the ready to dispense her ancient droid, Emmi, to eject any man who attempted to take advantage of her feminine attributes. Still, many travellers had made an incorrect assumption of the liberties their hands could take.

As always, Maz’s training held her in good stead, helping her to deflect the worst transgressions. A quick flick of her wrist was all that was needed to stop a wandering hand and to bend an unwanted finger at a painful angle. 

She was dressed in her traditional serving uniform, a long black and red tunic and leggings. Her long hair was styled into three separate buns, pulled off her face - which was adorned in a thick white powder and red lipstick.

Rose, dressed and made up identically, smiled thinly at Rey as she transferred another empty tray of glasses over the counter of the bar.

“What’s the crowd like over in your area?” Rey asked, nodding her head in that direction.

“Rowdy,” Rose sighed, “You know how Imperial Soldiers are.”

Rey nodded, knowing all too well. Testosterone mixed with bravado and a sense of entitlement was a heady mix, and caused the most trouble for the serving staff. While the soldiers were partially hidden from view by a screen sectioning off their area, their raucous laughter could be heard across the far reaches of the bar floor.

“Why are they even here?” wondered Rey. They were at least several weeks from the wall, and from where the First Order was rumored to be.

“Recruitment, I think I overheard the big one say. They move out first thing tomorrow after the last enlistment.” 

“If you need help, let me know,” Rey said in a low voice.

“Actually, could you give me a hand with that extra tray? This crowd is thirsty!” Rose grimaced.

Rose picked up her next run with Rey following close behind her, a tray of long, tall glasses of ale in hand. As the two women turned the corner they were greeted by the glint of metal armor and the clang of fists on the table.

Rey quickly surveyed the situation, watching for likely candidates for trouble. She had a sixth sense about these things. The men seated around the large table were nondescript, the usual mix of brutishness and stupidity, but seemed harmless enough. 

She shuddered as she saw Lanoyo, the son of the local warlord Unkar Plutt, at the end of the table. The man gave her the chills. Maz did all she could but, though Lanoyo had been ejected by Emmi on more than one occasion, she was powerless to prevent him from coming back the next night. Such action would only lead to disaster for the tavern and the people who depended on it for an income.

Lanoyo leered at them, and her hand gripped the tray a little tighter. It was typical that he was entertaining the Imperial Army during their recruitment drive, trying to curry their favor. Rose and Rey nodded at each other, quickly moving to the other end of the table to set out the ale. 

Her focus was momentarily broken as she took in the other members of the group.

One in particular. 

The first thing she noticed was his size, towering head and shoulders over the other soldiers. He was as impressively muscular as he was tall, and his armor only emphasized it. She could tell he was of rank by the quality and embellishment of his attire. Rey’s keen eye travelled over the custom tailoring and craftsmanship, which was evident by the way it sat perfectly on his broad shoulders, the wide pauldrons that protected his shoulders shifting with ease as he lifted his ale to his mouth. It was glorious—true art with dragon scales meticulously carved into leather and metal, an azure blue accentuated by the blood red dragons on his shoulder and forearms. The dragons, which represented power and good luck, were not just any dragons - they were the five-clawed dragons of the Empress. 

His leather breastplate was adorned with polished brass, bearing the same sigil, which caught the dim light thrown by the fire as he moved. Somewhere in the back of her mind it struck her as odd that a man who could afford such a fine suit of armor should be sitting in a tavern that was essentially in the middle of nowhere. 

She gasped, just a little, at the size of his hand as it dwarfed the glass.

But it was his face that truly captivated her. It was broodingly handsome, highlighted perfectly by the blue of his armor. His deep set eyes were expressive—she was unable to determine the hue in the dark corner of the bar—framed by heavy-set brows and an aquiline nose. She drank in his plush lips as he downed his ale, his thick, raven hair falling to touch the nape of his long neck as he threw back his head. 

He was an example of pure masculinity in a room already overflowing with testosterone.

Yet, he was not at all engaged in the revelry around him. His eyes were unfocused, unreadable. She felt the urge to probe into his mind, to unlock the reason behind his disaffection. She quickly shook such thoughts from her mind. He paid her no notice as she continued to set the drinks on the table. It was unusual for her to focus so intently on one particular patron rather than to continue to survey the group, especially when the object of her attention wasn't paying the slightest drop of attention to her.

She continued to place the beer steins on the table as she watched him. As she rounded the opposite end, she was suddenly enveloped by the sickening stench of ale, stale sweat—and a wet, sloppy mouth on her face as she was twirled around and pulled into Lanoyo’s lap. Her hands were firmly pinned in between their bodies as the putrid smell of his breath assaulted her nose. She screamed, squirming desperately to break free. She could hear the commotion of Maz and Emmi rushing to her aid, but they still had to break through the crowd to get to her.

Suddenly, the sharp tip of a jian blade appeared at her captor’s face, forcing his head back as a thin rivulet of blood snaked down his cheek. It was beautiful, decorated with an intricate silver inlay. As a part of her training, Maz had taught her about different weapons, what they were used for, and what they signified about the owner. So, she knew it was the sword of a high official, along with the uniform. 

Lanoyo’s eyes grew wide as he looked up at the wielder of the blade. 

A warm hand encircled her waist, lifting her from her assaulter's lap, pulling her back up against a broad chest, the cool sensation of brass on her spine.

“Lanoyo, that is no way to treat a lady,” came the deep voice above her head. 

“C- C- Captain Solo, I didn’t…” the man stammered, although it was difficult to move his face with a blade pressed against it.

“Oh, but I think you did,” the Captain replied, cutting the man off mid sentence. 

Lanoyo had the sense to look contrite and to shut his mouth. The streaks of her white face powder and red lipstick on his lips were evidence of his transgressions.

Rey’s breathing was still ragged from the assault but, for some strange reason, her revulsion had dissipated. There was something else she felt as the Captain continued to hold her. Indeed, she should have demanded that he release her, if she had her staff handy she may have even thought to crack it across his skull, but instead… she did nothing to escape his hold. 

For one, he smelled a great deal better than the other man. The other - the feel of him against her was oddly safe and secure.

By now Maz had made it over to the group, her fury clear across her face.

“Lanoyo, what are you doing to my employee?” she bellowed.

“Lanoyo,” interjected the Captain, in a clipped voice, “needs to learn some manners, but I will be the one to dole out the lesson.”

He paused for a moment. “Are you alright?” he asked softly against her ear, sending tingles down her spine. She could hear him take in a sharp breath, although she wasn’t at all sure why.

She nodded, not quite trusting herself to speak. His hand felt so large as it rested on her abdomen, and she desperately tried to prevent him from realizing just how much it unnerved her by keeping her breath within her chest.

His hand dropped and it took her a moment to realize that she was free to go. 

“Lanoyo, you will apologize to this woman.” It was not a suggestion, it was intended to deliver a complete loss of face for Lanoyo in front of the crowd watching in silence. 

Lanoyo looked horrified at the idea of apologizing to a mere bar wench but, as the blade still pressed against his cheek cut a little deeper, he reconsidered his disdain.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“Oh, I think you can do better than that,” the Captain said crisply. The blade remained firmly pressed.

“Sorry, I was… handsy.” Lanoyo said, still mumbling somewhat.

“Lanoyo, I’m going to give you one more chance to make it good, or you can kiss your face goodbye.”

“Sorry I was handsy, I deserve nothing less than to be digested by a sarlacc slowly over one thousand years,” Lanoyo offered, this time looking Rey in the eye.

The Captain grunted in satisfaction, then addressed Maz. 

“I trust this will suffice, as far as amends go?” he asked.

Maz narrowed her eyes. “It will do. But keep him on a tighter leash.”

Rey heard the Captain snort behind her as he returned his blade to his scabbard. Sensing the matter resolved, she bolted back to the bar and to relative safety. She avoided that section of the tavern for the rest of the evening.

______________ 

Trading had ended for the evening, and Rey found herself throwing the last of the empty bottles into the large bins out the back. She wrinkled her nose at the stale stench of ale and damp vegetables that hung in the air. She couldn’t wait to get to the comfort of her bed. It had been a long day. Just as she was about to lock the gate she felt a rough shove from behind, forcing her back into the enclosed area. She stumbled to the ground, slippery from the refuse that had found its way from the dumpster. She realized this was one of those moments Maz had prepared her for; terrified she spun around to identify her attacker.

It was Lanoyo of course, and he was looking at her with malevolent intent.

“I’ll give you an apology–and when I’m done with you, you’ll remember my apology for the rest of your life.” His grin was sinister, sending a chill down her spine.

Before she could scream he was upon her, his hand over her mouth as she squirmed furiously. The slippery ground meant her feet could not find purchase, and her only choice of defense was to thrust her head forward to connect with his skull. Clutching his forehead, he howled in pain as he fell backwards, the white imprint of powder left from where she had made contact. 

She backed away, desperate to put distance between them.

Recovering from her defence he growled. “Now you’re really gonna pay,”. He drew a dagger from beneath his robe, and she knew her situation had gone from dire to deadly. As he lunged. she ducked under his arm and bolted. But he was more spry than she had anticipated, grabbing her as she ran. She elbowed him in the ribs, sending the dagger clattering to the ground. 

They dove for it simultaneously, but Rey was quicker.

She didn’t think as she spun around and slashed his throat with a clean sweep of her arm. He gave a gurgling scream as he clutched his neck, collapsing to the ground as the fatal wound drained the lifeblood from him. By the time he had completed his descent, Lanoyo was dead.

Shocked, Rey dropped the dagger from her hands, stumbling backwards. She had reacted instinctively, not actually having intended to kill him. She had survived Lanoyo’s attack, but she would not survive the wrath of Unkar Plutt. No one would care that she had reacted in self-defense. She stood, staring at the dead body of the son of the most powerful man in the province. 

Her survival instincts kicked in once again. She quickly locked the gate to shield the body from sight, then bolted back to the tavern - and to the safety of Maz.


	2. The Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey’s only chance at safety leads her directly into the path of Captain Solo. But will he recognize her underneath her disguise?

Maz knew something terrible had happened the moment she saw the wild-eyed look on Rey’s face, and the streak of blood, garish across her powdered cheek. No stranger to quick action, Maz swiftly sent Emmi down to dispose of Lanoyo in the deepest part of Nymeve Lake. The freshwater creatures that resided there would be sure to make quick work of the evidence.

Maz confirmed the seriousness of Rey’s situation.

“My child, you cannot stay here any longer,” Maz said gravely. “Eventually Plutt will discover that you were responsible for his son’s death. He will exact a terrible revenge.”

Tears welled up in Rey’s eyes as she nodded mutely. Maz’s castle was her home, the only home she could remember. Maz was like a mother to her, having rescued her from the streets at the age of six, where Rey had lived as a beggar. She couldn’t remember her real parents, they had left her long ago.

“You must go to the outskirts of the Imperial Palace. I have a… friend. His name is Chewbacca, and he owns a bar there, the Sookie Wookie. He will take care of you,” Maz told her.

Rey gasped. “But Maz, it is at least two weeks’ travel to the Palace! How on earth will I make it that far on my own?” Rey asked, chewing her lip. She didn’t know the way and, as a lone female traveller, her journey would be filled with danger at every turn.

Maz sighed, she understood the risks all too well. “We shall have to find a way to disguise you, and a way to secure your passage in safety with all the supplies you’ll need.” 

Maz paused for a moment, then exclaimed as an idea came to her.

“Down in the cellar, I have an Imperial uniform. We will need to cut your hair for you to pass as a man. Yes... yes!” A plan was beginning to form in her mind. “There is no time to waste; in two hours’ time you will go to the Army camp and enlist. They will take you all the way to the palace in safety. Once you are there, find Chewie and he will help you.” 

There was no way that Rey would agree to it. “Maz, that will take weeks! I’ll need to train before they take me to the palace. They’ll recognize me immediately. Plus, I don’t have any papers!” Rey exclaimed.

All she could see were the reasons why the plan wouldn’t work, the ways it could fail. She didn’t want to leave, but at the same time, there was no way she could stay. Maz adjusted her glasses, deep in thought.

“Did the Captain see your face?” Maz asked.

Rey paused for a moment; she distinctly recalled that he’d paid no attention to her whatsoever as she had served his ale, and she’d had her back to him when he had confronted Lanoyo.

“I don’t think so...” she said.

“Then, my dear,” Maz said softly, “There is no other way to deliver you to safety. You must follow my plan to the letter. I will take care of your papers. Please, trust me.” Her eyes implored Rey to do as she asked.

Rey finally saw that Maz was right; it was her only hope. She nodded in resigned agreement.

____________

So, that’s how Rey found herself two hours later, standing in the Imperial Army camp, hair cut short, clutching her falsified identity papers for dear life. In the early morning light she could see all around her the camp preparing to move out. Tents were being struck down, horses saddled for riding, and supplies being packed for the long journey to training camp.

It made it a little easier that she could at least keep her name - Ray - although her surname was Niima now. It was the first time in her life that she had one. While her blue soldier’s uniform was not nearly as heavy as Captain Solo’s looked, and was without a breastplate and intricate shoulder and arm guards, it was still a far cry from the soft robe and leggings she usually wore. 

It was fortunate that her form was more straight lines than soft curves, although she was aware that there was an awfully-feminine shape to her derriere highlighted by the soft brown pants she now wore. However, she was grateful that her small breasts could not be detected under the heavy leather lamellar armor, so she’d needed only a little banding.

Rey had been very curious as to how exactly Maz had come by an Imperial Army uniform, and why it was stored in her cellar, alongside her many other curios and artifacts. 

“That is a good question, for another time,” was the only reply Maz had been willing to give.

Maz had been more forthcoming on other matters, making it crystal clear to Rey that if her true gender was discovered, it would mean she would be put to death immediately. She must pass as a man, no matter the price.

The soldier at the entrance had grunted his head in the direction of the camp center when she had asked for the enlistment tent. She made her way through the hustle and bustle until she could see the recruitment tent, along with a short line of men who were looking to sign up. Rey went to the end of the line, her staff in hand. She gripped it tightly, ready to defend herself at a moment’s notice, should she be discovered.

She could see there were only four men in front of her, and she watched them intently to mimic their behavior. She was quite familiar with the way intoxicated buffoons behaved within the confines of the tavern. She was less familiar, however, with how sober men behaved within the regimented setting of an army.

She was disappointed to find that while they may have been sober, they were still disgusting; she had already witnessed all manner of leg splaying, crotch scratching, belching and package adjusting, and that was just on the short walk to the enlistment tent. She wrinkled her nose in disgust, but quickly wiped all expression from her face as she remembered that her very life depended on acting as if everything was normal.

She was still in grave danger; if Lanoyo’s death had already been discovered, then she would immediately be a prime suspect. The whole tavern had witnessed Lanoyo’s loss of face, at the hands of Captain Solo.

The Captain.

She couldn’t quite admit to herself that she was a little thrilled at the thought of being under him.

No, under _the control_ of Captain Solo.

No, _reporting_ to Captain Solo.

She pushed the butterflies in her stomach down. As attractive as he was, she still had to pass for a man. No matter what. Mooning over the Captain would only bring suspicion and unwanted scrutiny. Her baser urges must be ignored.

It was at that very moment that the subject of those urges made his appearance. In the soft early morning light, he was even more attractive than she had first realized, the rising sun creating a halo behind his head. He was walking through the barracks, head and shoulders taller than any other man. There was another man with him, and from what she could tell, of a much higher ranking - most likely a General. She stiffened herself a little, trying to stand just a bit taller. The men came closer, and she quickly shielded her face from his view. Of course, he didn’t really see her; she was just another potential recruit. 

A nobody at best, a woman at worst.

“Our intelligence informs us that the First Order is six weeks north of the Imperial Palace. The tales of death and destruction are horrific to say the least; we must stop them at all costs”, she overheard the General say.

To her dismay, they stopped right next to her spot in the line. She couldn’t help but steal a glance at him.

Gosh, he was broad. 

And handsome.

“Yes, General Ackbar, I have heard the same,” Captain Solo agreed, nodding his head. ”What are your orders?”

“Captain Solo, you will set up base camp seven days north of here and train the new recruits. You have three weeks. Following this, you will join us at the barracks south of the Palace. From there we will regroup to defend the city and protect the Empress.”

Rey could have sworn she saw the Captain’s eye twitch a little at the last statement, then quickly recover.

“Sir, I understand the need to train the new recruits, but I need more time. This last batch are as soft as dumplings - with the brains and sense to match.” He wore both concern and disdain on his face.

Last night, she had wanted to know what lay beneath the surface, and today she was getting a glimpse. And what she saw was… arrogance and fear.

“Captain, I have the utmost confidence in your ability to take these _dumplings,_ as you call them, and make men out of them. I will see you in four weeks time, with a company of well-trained men prepared for battle and to defend the city… and your mother.”

Captain Solo noticeably stiffened at the General’s pointed comment. Then, the penny dropped for her. Captain Solo was _Prince Benjamin_?

The arrogance suddenly made much more sense.

“I will not let you down,” he said gruffly, his eyes as hard as steel.

By this time, it was her turn to enroll. She had to tear her focus away from the Captain, and throw everything she had at the officer to convince him to enlist her as a soldier. Her very life depended upon it.

“Name?” Asked the bored looking officer.

“Uh.. Ray, Ray Niima,” she said, rustling up her deepest voice.

“Papers.” The officer did not seem to react at all to her voice or appearance. Maybe this was going to be easier than she thought. She shoved the papers across the desk, willing herself not to show any outward signs of just how anxious she was. What would a man do in such a situation? She thought for a second, then belched, followed by a scratch at her crotch where a male appendage ought to be.

The officer finally looked at her, raising an eyebrow. Panic gripped her - had it been too much? Being disgusting in a manly way was apparently more nuanced than originally thought. 

“Any diseases, illnesses, problems with your constitution, or hallucinations?” the officer asked.

“Uhh, no,” said Rey, once again in what she hoped was a manly voice.

Without a word, the officer proceeded to write out her enlistment form, and she felt almost as if she could cry with relief. He was just about to complete the form, and stamp it with the Army Seal, when there was a loud commotion behind her.

“You! Boy!” She heard a booming voice cry. It took her a moment to recognize the Captain’s voice, which even while being demanding, sent chills down her spine. She turned to see the subject of his displeasure, only to discover that subject was her. She straightened her spine as much as possible, trying to appear taller, broader and more manly. There was no time to consider wadding a spitball in her mouth or scratching herself. 

He came right up to her, standing almost toe to toe. While she could not adopt a fighting stance - well aware that she would be ejected from the camp, and possibly into the waiting arms of Unkar Plutt’s henchmen - she still surreptitiously engaged every muscle in her body in readiness for a physical altercation. She was also very grateful for her staff.

She had to crane her neck to look at his face, and she was immediately hit by a wave of desire and fear as he looked at her intently. She gulped. Did he remember her from last night, after all?

“Do I know you? You look very familiar,” he said, narrowing his eyes in thought. Her heart was pounding, and she held her staff with white knuckled intensity.

“I don’t know how, Sir,” she answered shakily.

“Name, citizen,” he asked brusquely.

“Niima, sir. Ray Niima,” she said.

“Niima, why are you so familiar to me?” he asked again.

“I’m at a loss, sir. Perhaps I have one of those faces?” she said, desperate for him to find any answer but the truth.

“Hmmmm, no, that’s not it,” he mused. “There’s something else. Tell me Niima, why do you want to join the army?”

The answer “ _To escape the wrath of the local warlord after I killed his son who tried to attack me... also by the way did you know that I’m a woman?_ ” didn’t seem wise, given the circumstances.

What would a man say?

“Ah, because I want to… kill things! Yes, I have urges - manly urges! I must destroy, ah, The First Order. Yes… destroy The First Order and save the Empress and the city.”

His eyes narrowed again as he crossed his arms. She blushed a little as she caught a glimpse of the bulge of his arms under his pauldrons.

“You look soft, more like a dumpling than usual,” he said, then to her surprise, he reached out to grasp her biceps, giving them a squeeze.

It was all she could do to stifle a gasp - or was it a moan? His eyes widened and he rolled his lips as he felt her biceps, toned from years of sparring practice. He withdrew his hand as if it had been seared by a hot flame.

He continued to study her for a moment, and then addressed the enrollment officer.

The Captain’s eyes never left her face. 

“Excluding this one, how many new recruits have we enlisted?”

The man quickly looked through his records, his hands shaking ever so slightly.

“Not including him, that brings us to seventy nine, sir,” he replied.

The Captain gave a heavy sigh. “Well, we can’t leave until we have eighty. So, either you are in luck, recruit, or your luck just ran out. Depending on your perspective,” he delivered the final part with a smirk. “Approve this… _dumpling’s_ application,” he barked.

She could have almost kissed him from the relief of it all. Almost.

He leaned in a little closer. 

“I’m going to be keeping a close eye on you, soldier. There is something about you I just can’t quite put my finger on.”

They locked eyes for several moments. It was as if the world had become very small, and the activity around them could fit on a pin head for the impact it had. 

“I won’t have troublemakers in my company,” he said quietly, although to whom, she wasn’t sure.

“No sir, I’m not here to cause trouble,” she replied softly. 

He stared at her again, and then the moment passed. 

“We shall see,” he said, before turning and stalking away.

She hadn’t realized that she had been holding onto her breath during the exchange. She exhaled and brought herself back to her actual purpose - to enlist. The officer eyed her with suspicion as he applied the official stamp to her paperwork, and she couldn’t help her shaking hand as she took the completed form into her possession, bearing the name Ray Niima in Kaishu script.

It was her ticket to salvation. She just needed to avoid being in close proximity to Captain Solo as much as she could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler alert... she doesn't.


	3. The Test

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boot camp begins and Rey faces some big challenges. Impressively big.

The seven-day walk to training camp was long and arduous; a never-ending trek through the evergreen forest, the scent of spruce and pine trees filling the air. Rey kept to herself. Doing whatever she was asked, without question, and speaking as little as she could. She was young, fit and strong, but after day three her bones ached from the relentless march. Blisters were beginning to form on the heel of her foot, and each new step came with the agony of a thousand knives.

She grit her teeth as long as she could.

After another day enduring the pain, her resolve began to crumble. Unable to bear it any longer, at the next stop she carefully peeled back her boots and socks. She winced - while it didn't appear to be infected - things were starting to look pretty serious. She stared at her injury with dread - she knew she should go to the medical unit before it turned septic. But undergoing a medical examination could also lead to far riskier complications.

Like being diagnosed as terminally female.

A large shadow cast over her. Looking up she saw Captain Solo, astride a magnificent black stallion at least seventeen hands tall. The armor-plated covering hanging from it’s neck featured the five-clawed dragon of the Empress - blood-red on a background of azure blue - the same insignia that was on the Captain’s armor.

The pairing of horse and rider was breathtaking and, for the moment, she forgot about her problems.

“Go see the medic. I cannot have you hobbled - you are no use to me then,” he said firmly as his eyes narrowed at the sight of her injured foot. She was loath to contest an order from her superior, especially him, so she had to find a way to convince him otherwise.

“Yes sir, I suppose I should go straight away. Although, the company is preparing to move out in only a few moments.” she hesitated, while making as if to don her footwear again.

He sighed heavily. “Wait,” he said, and she froze. He reached down into his saddlebags, pulling out several stalks of aloe vera and a small square of moleskin. He tossed them down to her, his mouth betraying the slightest smirk as she deftly caught it.

“Thank you, sir,” Rey replied softly, overwhelmed by his generosity. He didn’t know it, but it was the second time he had rescued her. His eyes narrowed at her again as he rolled his lips together. Another moment passed in which she was gripped by a mixture of fear, gratitude and desire, forgetting she was supposed to be a manly man.

Catching herself, she quickly hawked up a loogie and spat it to the side. He screwed up his face in distaste and spurred his horse onwards, continuing on his ride. The aloe and moleskin were wonderfully soothing. She made the rest of the journey without incident - including no further interaction with the Captain.

____________________________

Setting up camp was quick and efficient, as expected. The night before training she was filled with nervous anticipation - thinking about how she would perform and how her skills would measure up.

If she would impress him.

_No._

Hiding in the far corner of the mess tent, she was ravenous, wolfing down her rice bowl with gusto. Fortunately, crude table manners were a manly characteristic that came quite naturally. Rows upon rows of men sat doing the same thing - although most were laughing, bellowing or jostling with the rest of the crew. Early days into the training program many were vying for alpha status, desperate to prove themselves more manly than the next.

They were welcome to it, she snorted in disgust.

Dead silence fell as Captain Solo entered the tent, his commanding presence instantly making itself known. Her heart thudded at the sight of him. He stood in the center of the room, glaring as he surveyed the group.

“Dumplings,” he barked, “You will report at daybreak for training. Do not be late.” 

“Yes, sir!” came the loud and enthusiastic response.

It seemed to please him. “As you were,” he ordered.

The noise returned although at a much lower hum. Rey began to shovel large quantities of rice into her mouth once more. Curiously, Captain Solo stayed put, his eyes searching the room. As she saw his eyes land on her, he quickly crossed the tent to stand before her.

She paused mid-mouthful.

“How is your foot?” he asked.

“Better, thank you sir,” she replied, grains of rice flying from her mouth. She blushed, which was not all that manly. 

As he watched her, the Captain had that disgusted look on his face - the one from the forest. “Be ready for tomorrow. I’m going to put you through your paces - I want to see what you’re made of.”

She gulped, but still managed to stammer out a “Yes, sir.” before he left.

__________

The next day, eighty bleary-eyed soldiers gathered at dawn to start the next phase of their journey - boot camp. She, like the other men around her, found the soft white cotton tunic and pants ensemble infinitely more comfortable than her armor. It was a small saving grace. Captain Solo stood in front of the company, this time wearing a soft off-white cotton tunic - open to the waist - and dark khaki pants with a teal ribbon down the side. Rey couldn’t help but ogle at his muscular chest. Her mouth ran dry as she realised his armor had lent just a small bulk to his impressive physique.

Behind him lay a range of weapons - a sword, a bow and quiver and, to her excitement, a quarterstaff. Rey found herself looking forward to the lesson a little more than anticipated. The troops murmured in quiet conversation with one another, while Rey stood quiet and still. She had the sense that the Captain would entertain neither rowdiness nor insubordination.

“Soldiers!” he shouted.

The troops immediately fell silent.

“You will assemble swiftly and silently every morning. Anyone acting otherwise will answer to me.”

He began to disrobe, and Rey once again admired his form, her heart pounding in her ears. She had never seen a man quite like this before. His skin looked smooth and soft, bonded over muscles and strength. She wasn’t sure how she was going to concentrate on her training if the Captain was intent on being half-naked for most of it. He picked up the bow and quiver - Rey watched as the muscles on his back bunched together and flexed as he shot an arrow straight to the top of a high pole.

His aim was just as impressive as his physique. 

“This boot camp will be tough, you will curse your ancestors - and you may even curse me.” He paused for effect. “The last outpost has given me dumplings. Well, dumplings will protect neither the palace, the Empress, nor the people. So, my task is to make a man out of each and every one of you. _No exceptions._ ”

His eyes locked on Rey, and she shivered.

“You,” he said. “Retrieve that arrow.”

“Me, sir?” she asked, in a small voice.

“Yes, you, dumpling,” he said with a slight smirk.

She didn’t appreciate his tone one bit. Ire rose in her, and she wanted to wipe the look from his face. A small voice inside her tried to warn her that one-upping the Captain was not laying low, but she pushed it aside. She walked to the base of the wooden pole, stroking it with a firm grip to test its stability. To her relief, there was very little give, firmly wedged as it was into its footing. As she craned her neck she saw the arrow piercing it some forty feet above ground. She flexed her fingers and stretched her neck in preparation. It was a challenge - especially since she had never climbed a pole before. But not an insurmountable one. 

“Not so fast,” said the Captain, “we’re not done yet.” He walked to the table, picking up a cloth sack.

He made his way to where she stood, pulling what appeared to be weights from the bag. He then placed one on each of her arms, gripping each wrist tightly as he did. Immediately she felt the force of gravity pulling her down, the challenge now infinitely greater.

There was also the matter of the way his bare chest filled her vision, and goosebumps travelled up her arms at his touch. Heart pounding, she looked away, unable to fight the color that ran into her cheeks. She caught a whiff of sandalwood, reminding her of their encounter at the tavern - she was finally able to place the scent.

He stood behind her as he addressed the rest of the troops.

"This,” he said, raising Rey’s right arm, “represents strength. While this,” he raised her left arm, causing the weights to dig into her cruelly, “represents discipline. You will need both to reach the arrow.”

“Show me what you are made of,” he growled in her ear.

She shook herself free from the tingles that ran down her spine. She would show him she was tough, and make him eat the damn weights he had laden her with. She was unsteady on her feet as she struggled to make sense of the additional burden. The confidence she had felt moments ago ebbed away from her as she looked up at the arrow perched high against the backdrop of the clouds.

This was intensified as eighty sets of eyes bore down on her - or maybe just one set in particular. She felt the pressure of being watched, of being the first. She also knew that she could not show weakness, nor that she did not have the strength one would expect in a man. She rubbed her hands together, and to her dismay they were clammy - perhaps from nerves, or perhaps from the way the Captain had growled into her ear.

The weights made it awkward to wipe her hands on her clothing.

She gripped the pole as hard as she could, giving an almighty bellow as she tried to lift herself higher. Immediately the weights began to drag, pulling her backwards. Determined, but her confidence ever wavering, she pulled herself up a bit higher. She had barely started and already the muscles in her legs and arms burned. She could feel the sweat pouring from her and, to her dismay, the clamminess in her hands returned.

Her pride, along with her body, slid down and hit the ground with a thud. She couldn’t look at Captain Solo as she handed the weights back to him.

However, she did look at the faces of the other troops, noting their sneers and contemptuous looks. Her stomach twisted in fear. In the end it was unfounded - no other man made the climb either.

The rest of the training session was uneventful enough, save for when she smashed two clay pots with a quarterstaff after tossing them into the air. She knew it was foolish to draw attention to herself, but it was worth the impressed look that flashed across the Captain’s face - even if it was only for an instant. 

____________

Later in the day, things took a decidedly more eventful turn. It was time to begin training with the quarterstaff - finally a lesson where her skills could be displayed. It had so very little to do with impressing her captain - or bolstering her bruised ego.

He stood before all of them, staff in hand. “The quarterstaff is one of your greatest weapons to master. Used correctly, it will outclass the sword - as long as you are able to stay out of the inner circle of your opponent.”

“Dumpling,” he called out, “You appear far more proficient with the staff than you are at climbing the pole. Let’s see, shall we?” There was that half smile again as he tossed her a staff, his own twirling absentmindedly in his other hand.

Her nostrils flared in response to his challenge and the arrogance of his stance. As she caught the staff, she twirled it as well, bringing it around and behind her, crouching in readiness. Two could play at that game. He smiled a little wider and cocked an eyebrow.

Although she knew he had the size advantage, Maz had taken her down too many times for Rey not to know it was as much a vulnerability as it was a strength. What would Maz tell her to do?

_Don’t show fear._

_Light on your feet._

_When your opponent has the size advantage, attack first._

She felt a pang of loneliness as she remembered Maz and all she had done for her. Now, because of a dead man, she may never get to see her beloved Maz again. Rey’s eyes narrowed as the injustice of it pierced her like Captain Solo’s arrow into the top of the climbing pole.

Captain Solo wanted to make a man out of her. Well, she would make a meal out of him.

Scanning him, she realized his stance did nothing to counter his size - he was heavy on his feet, with his shoulders square. She pushed her awareness of how much she desired him to the side. Now was not the time to get distracted. Shifting her weight onto her back foot, she held her staff wide for maximum thrust. She would need it to have any impact on _that_ physique. 

His eyes drifted along the lines of her body, with an intensity that made her throb. She saw when his concentration shifted from their duel so, baring her teeth, she charged. Bringing her staff around sharply, she struck hard against his ribs. The surprise attack worked as he was only able to partially block her staff, unable to prevent it from delivering a cracking blow to his torso. 

He grunted in pain, as she quickly danced out of his reach and stood ready to guard.

She crowed silently as she saw the vein throbbing in his neck - he was clearly furious at her move.

_Good._

A subtle shift in his weight placement told her he was about to launch his own attack, and she readied herself, tucking in her chin. He ran at her, and she couldn’t help but feel terrified as he brought his staff up over his head. She blocked his blow, the force of which sent reverberations through her entire body. Then she ducked and twisted, launching a swinging attack at his lower legs. 

Her earlier assumption that he would be heavy on his feet proved unfounded as he easily blocked her attack, then struck her on the shoulder before she could return to guard. Crying out in pain, she felt her anger boil deep within her as she spun out of his reach to get her bearings. She forgot she was sparring with her superior. All she could focus on was the rage that filled her body and set her jaw. She saw a small smile tug at the corner of his mouth, like he was sure he had her. 

Well, he did not.

Although she wished the smirk would stop _doing_ things to her. It made it very difficult to focus. She ignored the pain searing through her, pooling all her tension to power another strike, this time stabbing her staff to the ground before swinging around to grab his weapon. As her hand clasped around it, he quickly pulled to the rear, taking it, and her, with him.

_Never over extend your reach. Never leave yourself open._

It was too late to recall that lesson.

Unbalanced, she fell to the ground and rolled onto her back. Without her staff to protect her, there was little she could do but brace herself, using her arms to shield her face from his jab. The expected blow never came. She dared to open her eyes, only to see the butt of his staff hovering inches from her face. His chest heaved with exertion and, even though she had clearly been defeated, it was still a victory he had had to work for.

She took little comfort in that.

This time, when she returned to her place in line, she saw the nods and impressed looks she had earned from going up against the largest man in the camp, who was their Captain to boot.

 _That_ was a great deal more reassuring.

————————

That evening, Rey couldn't hold back any longer - she was desperate to bathe.

It had been at least two weeks since she had been afforded the opportunity, every time she had tried there had always been soldiers occupying the washing area at the nearby river. She never wanted to see another naked man, again. Today she was determined to be clean. Nothing was going to stop her.

She waited until the entire camp was asleep and, in the dead of night made her way down to the riverbank. She carefully removed her clothing and placed it behind a rock to keep dry and ready to change into again later. She had to take every precaution. As she waded into the river, soap in hand, she gasped as the feel of the water sent goosebumps all over her body. It was cold, but heavenly.

She swam until the water was up to her collar bone, then commenced soaping and lathering herself. It was a plain regulation bar of soap, but at that moment it felt luxurious. Once satisfied that she was meticulously clean, Rey turned to make her way back to the bank when she saw a familiar, hulking shape emerge from the shadows.

It was the Captain and, he too had come to bathe.

She froze, unable to move as if the river bed itself had grabbed ahold of her feet, clamping them down. She was thrust into a state of terror and arousal as he began to undress. She wanted to call out to signal that she was there, but she couldn’t trust her voice to form the words in a manly enough fashion.

She had already seen his bare chest, earlier that day. Up close and personal. And, as distracting as that had been, it was not where her attention remained as he removed his pants. He neatly folded them and placed them on the rock ledge, then grabbed his soap and made his way into the water.

Her eyes threatened to fall out of her head as she took in the view from the front.

He was magnificent. He was also big - impressively so.

As he waded into the water, he startled when he found her staring up at him. Instinctively, his hands went to cover himself and then he seemed to think better of it. He did move at a faster pace into the water, until it reached his waist. She tried to act nonchalant, as though they were both similarly… equipped, and there would be no surprises if she chose at that very moment to head for dry land. She had a feeling she was failing miserably, though.

Silently, he began his own ablutions and the scent of sandalwood wafted over to her as he lathered his chest and arms.

“Soldier,” he said, his voice cutting through the night air.

“Captain,” she squeaked, then repeated again with more confidence, “Captain.”

“It’s a little late to be bathing, Niima?”

“Yes sir,” she replied, “I was… uh, practising my pole climbing, and I lost track of time.”

He snorted softly and rinsed the soap from his body. He paused for just a moment and then his hand dove beneath the water to continue washing.

 _I’m a man, I’m a man, I’m a man_ , _I’m a manly, manly, manly man_ , she reminded herself.

She breathed a small sigh of relief when he appeared to have finished washing himself. She wanted so very badly to test her pole climbing prowess on him, but to do so would only court disaster. They stood awkwardly for a moment. Rey had no idea if she should make eye contact or small talk. What did men do in these situations? 

He broke the silence first.

“You know, for a dumpling you're not bad with the staff.”

She was grateful night covered the rush of color to her cheeks.

“Ah, thank you, sir. I had training, before I joined the army,” she replied. “You are very… impressive too.”

He snorted again. “I too had training before joining the Imperial Army.”

She winced a little, because of course he had. He was a prince, although it was odd that he was only a Captain, when he could have a much higher level of command. His father had been the legendary General Han Solo after all.

“You almost had me. But you let your anger control you,” he said bluntly.

And just like that, she had an overwhelming urge to stuff his soap up his nose. Which in no way proved his point, she told herself.

 **"** The same with retrieving the arrow,” he mused. “Strength and discipline are needed to be a good soldier, but what makes a man truly great is conviction and determination. You have that. Just watch your temper. Use it, don’t be ruled by it.”

She wasn’t sure whether to glow from the compliment or bristle from the additional jab at her disposition. "Sir, if I may be so bold as to ask a question?” she said through slightly gritted teeth.

“Permission granted,” he replied, eyebrows slightly raised.

“Why are you so hard on me? I’ve seen the way you treat the other men. You are much tougher on me than you are on them.” She kept her voice hard, so as not to betray how much it stung her.

He tilted his head and considered her for a moment. “That’s quite the question. My answer, soldier, is that in this entire company there are only a handful of men I would be confident going into battle with.”

Her eyes opened wide as he spoke - was she one of those men?

“You are not one of them.”

_Oh._

“Your skill with the staff is very impressive. But you allow your feelings to dominate you. That is why I am… hard on you. You could be the best.”

_Oh?_

She blinked at him, at a loss for words. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Well, it’s time for me to retire for the evening.” He raised an eyebrow. “You should consider doing the same.”

She gave a nervous laugh. 

“Oh, I will, sir. Very soon.”

He shrugged and began to wade back to the riverbank. She feigned interest in cleaning her nails, but really she was watching him dress. Once he had left, she dropped her head into her hands and groaned. She couldn’t deny it any longer, she had a very large crush on her Captain - and discovery would be her undoing.

She sighed, and resolved to keep her distance a little more. After waiting several minutes to make sure he didn’t return, she rushed behind the rock to dress quickly. She then made her way back to her tent, using the fastest path. Which just happened to run close to where the higher ranking officers had their quarters. 

It was Captain Solo’s low throaty groan that stopped her dead in her tracks as she passed his tent. She had spent enough nights in the company of the other troops to know what that sound meant. Usually, she tried block those nocturnal rustlings. This time, the tense heat she had felt building, as they had stood naked in the water, returned with full force. She was compelled to stay.

She looked around furtively, then shifted into the shadows. 

His grunts were soft, as if though muffled by a pillow. She shifted uncomfortably, but was still unwilling to move. She closed her eyes, using his moans and the memory of his body to paint a picture of the activity in the tent. He would be lying, resplendent on his back, his length gripped firmly in his hand as he stroked himself. In her mind it was as clear as her own hand in the midday sun.

How she longed to be with him inside the tent, to watch, and then to claim him. Place his hardness inside her. She was not entirely sure where this image was coming from, but she was powerless to stop it.

Not for as long as she stood there. She let out a little whimper as his tempo appeared to intensify, the sound of the metal bed frame shaking loud with his movements. She imagined riding him, being the one to draw those sounds from his lips. She steadied herself on a nearby tree as waves of desire threatened to overwhelm her. 

His grunts began to stutter and run closer together, and she could hear that he was close. She began to hold her breath in sweet anticipation. Each new grunt brought a new coil of desire, and she thought she might explode if he took much longer.

Her prayers were answered as he let out a long, deep moan, and the sound of squeaking metal ceased. Her hand flung over her mouth at the sheer animal intensity of the sounds he was making.

She longed for nothing more than to have him within her as he reached completion. Desire burned within every single cell of her body.

After a few moments she heard him rustling around his tent, soon followed by the soft sounds of him sleeping.

It was time for her to go.

Quickly returning to her tent, she silently slipped back into her bunk. The place between her thighs throbbed insistently. The soft snores of the other soldiers and the occasional release of flatulence were the only sounds, and she briefly considered taking care of her own need. But the risk was too great - nothing would give her away more than to be caught self-pleasuring while missing an expected appendage. 

Sighing at her predicament, she willed herself to sleep.


	4. The Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey's true identity is exposed and the Captain _insists _that she is confined to his quarters.__

The rest of her training passed quickly, and while Rey’s technical skills improved significantly during this time, Captain Solo’s penchant for training half-naked remained constant. She wondered if it made it easier or worse to have that in view while trying to learn new fighting techniques. She very much wanted to impress him. For him to notice her for her skills. 

That’s right - her _skills,_ she told herself.

There was a regular routine about the camp, and each day she had found her manly persona a little easier to wear than the previous one. She even found herself joining in on the merriment and laughter in the mess tent on the odd occasion. It was a strange place for her to start to feel like she belonged.

As for the Captain, although she had bathed at the same time each night since their chance encounter, they had not crossed paths again. She knew it was terribly foolish to risk her cover like that, but after spending the day starting at his naked torso - slick with sweat after a training session, well she was a woman after all. So, she found herself on a nightly quest for him to “happen” upon her again.

Maz would not have exactly approved - but Rey didn’t think she would have blamed her, either.

Rey did notice his eyes looking at her with a little more kindness and respect than the first day at the recruitment tent. The day she had been the first soldier to retrieve the arrow-- _with_ the weights no less-- she was dizzy from pride. She promptly forgot her promise to make him eat the weights when he smirked and nodded at her triumph. She couldn’t resist smirking back, and she could have sworn there was a twinkle in his eye as she sauntered over to the weapons table to drop the arrow.

Perhaps he would make a man out of her after all, she thought.

It was possibly this that led her to feel so bold when she spotted him sitting alone in the mess tent one evening. He was polishing his beautiful jian blade, its intricate silver handle gleamed under his care and attention, and she couldn’t help but admire it - as well as his impressive forearms, exposed by the rolled up sleeves of his loose cotton shirt.

“Permission to sit?” She asked.

“Permission granted,” he grunted, not looking up from his task.

“It’s a lovely weapon,” she said, sitting down opposite him to watch.

“Lovely?” he asked, with a cock of his devilish brow as he looked up at her.

She cursed inwardly, having almost given the game away not five seconds after sitting down at his table.

“Sturdy… ah, stabby I meant,” she said.

He snorted in response. “I think I prefered lovely,” he said dryly, “This weapon has a long, proud history of serving and protecting he who wields it, and will continue to do so long after you and I are dust.” 

“The first time I saw it I _thought_ it special, it makes sense that it's a family heirloom…” she mused to herself.

“When you first saw it? I am not in the habit of pulling out my sword and waving it about for inspection,” he said, his brow raised a little higher. She panicked momentarily - she had seen his sword, his _actual_ sword (as well as the other one while he was bathing) up close and personal when he used it to pierce Lanoyo’s face in the tavern.

“I noticed the hilt, while you were riding your horse,” she said quickly, desperate to cover her gaffe, “I thought to myself, the Captain has a mighty fine sword - I should like to take a closer look.” She knew it wasn’t manly to blush at the way her comment could be misconstrued. Then again, when she looked at his face she noticed it was a similar hue.

He went back to his polishing.

“Niima,” he no longer called her Dumpling, which oddly she found she missed, “good job today.”

“Thank you, sir.” She was filled with pride again.

“The First Order will show no mercy, and intelligence informs me they are less than seven days from the gates of the Imperial Palace. The tales of bloodshed and destruction are enough to make the toughest man quake in fear.” He paused in his polishing to look at her. “Think you have what it takes, soldier?”

That she had no intention of going into battle was not something she was prepared to share.

“Can’t wait to crack their skulls open like melons with my quarterstaff,” she said with a bravado she didn’t possess.

He grimaced and then chuckled. “I look forward to that day, soldier.”

Rey thought she had done enough damage to her cover for one day. She rose, bid him goodnight, and hurried her way back to her tent.

_________________________

That it was her moment of real triumph in which her downfall came was an irony not lost on her. 

Since their first duel together, the Captain had continued to use her as his sparring partner. Of course, she never actually won these challenges - after all the Captain had years of professional training under his belt - but her quarterstaff skills had improved beyond measure under his tutelage. The company was due to leave in two days time, and the Captain had decided one last practice was in order before the march towards the Imperial Palace.

Rey and the Captain had been going toe to toe for the better part of an hour, neither ready to yield. She was surprised at just how evenly they were matched, and how easily they were able to anticipate the other’s next move. Later, she would wonder if it was the way sweat caused her uniform to cling to her--bunched in some areas and taut in others--that led to the revealing tear as she executed a move that would see her finally victorious against him.

She was so intent on besting him that she hadn’t noticed that the tear had even occurred. Her movements split the fabric across her torso even further, exposing her breast banding. She supposed that was what caused his momentary lapse in concentration, which in turn enabled her to deal him a glancing blow off the side of his head with her quarterstaff.

She had expected the Captain to block, but her exposed breast band saw to that.

He crashed to the ground, holding his head in his head. His low groan was muffled by the gasp from the other soldiers who stood watching. At first, she assumed it was because the Captain, mountain of a man that he was, had been defeated by a soldier who was a good deal smaller. However, it was the way in which they all stared at her that gave her the chills. Whether it was the narrowing of eyes, pursing of lips, eyes wide with shock or an open mouth gape, all she could see from the crowd was that there was something horribly, terribly wrong with her.

She looked down at her chest.

By this time the Captain had struggled to his feet, nursing the wound that bled down the side of his cheek. On _his_ face she saw recognition and understanding - the yuan had dropped, and now her life was in mortal peril. For a woman found to be impersonating a soldier, a crime of treason, could only meet one fate.

_Execution._

Two lower ranking officers came around either side of her, and brought her to her knees. The crowd had begun to murmur and comment.

“A woman...”

“Treacherous snake...”

“Ultimate dishonour…”

One of the officers roughly pulled her hair tie and threw it to the ground.

Rey knelt on the hard ground, small stones biting into her knees cruelly. She was terrified, but knew she had to keep her wits about her to plead for her life. The Captain was the only one who could save her but, as she watched him walk to his jian and withdraw it from its scabbard, with sinking dread she knew he would be the one to have to kill her, too.

He stalked over to stand before her. He was so tall and intimidating it was like he could block out the sun.

She began to plead for mercy. “My name is Rey. I did it because I had no place to go. Lanoyo came for me that night, outside the tavern, and I had to kill him in self defence. In order to save myself. It was the only way to reach the Imperial City. I’m sorry,” she spoke softly, barely above a whisper.

The Captain leveled his blade till it was mere inches from her face. 

“You are the girl from the tavern?” He growled.

She nodded, her hair bobbing around her face.

“Treason is punishable by death,” he said firmly. A hush fell over the company, as all waited for the inevitable fatal strike. She bowed her head in anticipation of searing pain and then the dark.

But it never came.

“A life for a life, my debt is repaid,” he said, spinning around to resheath his weapon.

_A debt?_

“Confine her to my tent, keep a watch over her.” He nodded to the officers either side of her, then turned to address his men. “No one is to go near her - that is my official order. If any man here so much as touches a hair on her head, I will not show the mercy I have today.”

She stared at him blankly, she was not sure of what would become of her even though he had spared her life. Treason was treason, after all.

“I will take you as far as the next town and leave you there. After that you are on your own,” he addressed her, but still refused to look at her.

She wanted to fall at his feet to thank him for his mercy, but she was still held by the officers gripping her arms. She was about to proclaim her gratitude when he finally looked at her, holding her gaze. What he said next felt like he had plunged his jian into her gut.

“I knew you would be trouble.”

He nodded at his men and they pulled her to her feet, leading her away.

___________

The wait in his tent was excruciating.

She sat on the floor for what felt like hours, her attention forever drifting back to the bed. His bed. That had rattled when he pleasured himself. The image kept flashing through her mind - it was intrusive and unwanted, she was fighting for her life after all. As much as she was grateful that he had not executed her - very grateful - and had sought to keep her safe, she wondered what would become of her. 

And of the fire that burned within her at the idea of spending the night with him in his tent.

Thankfully, his quarters were spacious, fitting his bed, desk and weaponry with room to spare. Although, it still felt awfully intimate.She chastised herself for her lewd thoughts - given the peril she was facing. She also wondered exactly where she was expected to sleep. The floor, she supposed.

Food was provided to her, as well as a fresh uniform - other things to be grateful for. The question about sleeping arrangements was answered when two officers brought in a cot and blankets, presumably for her. It was oddly disappointing. The other item of interest was his armor, which hung in the corner. Oh, how she longed to caress it, to smell it, to hold it against her. She resisted, she had enough sense to know that if he caught her, her privilege as a captive guest in his tent would be unceremoniously revoked.

Night had well and truly fallen. She had settled herself into her cot, snuggling down and trying desperately to sleep. A lantern provided soft illumination, and the sheen of his breastplate was as captivating as it had been the first time she had seen him wearing it.

Sleep wouldn’t come.

She knew what would help.

_But, she must not, should not, could not._

She willed herself to try and sleep without extra assistance.

It still eluded her.

She stared at his armor.

Sleep was very important, she told herself, and really, she had to use all the tricks in the book to achieve a good night's rest. So that she could be on her toes for the next day.

_No, she must not._

The bed loomed large, reminding her of him and his moans and shudders. The desire still boiled within her from that night and it was that, combined with the effects of long days having been spent in his presence with no relief, that finally led her to take matters into her own hands - so to speak.

She rolled onto her side, careful to keep an eye on the tent entrance so as to quickly withdraw if needed. The waistband on her training uniform offered little resistance as she snaked her hand down between her legs, gasping as she realised how wet she was. She muffled her mouth against the pillow, trying to make as few movements as possible. She knew how the cots squeaked - she’d spent too many nights having to listen to the sounds of men being disgusting creatures (with one notable exception) - and she had no intention of letting anyone know what she was doing. 

It was far too risky as it was.

Shaking with need, she found her entrance, and sweet relief as she sank her fingers inside herself, stroking the sensitive nub above with the other hand. She groaned as the intensity began to build, a wall of pressure that she had to crash through, lest she lose her mind and throw herself at him, instead.

_The Captain._

She knew time was of the essence, so she let her brain run through every filthy permutation her mind could think of, every single thing she wanted to do to him, and what she wanted him to do to her. His head between her legs, his tongue laving at her, his mouth everywhere, and eventually, eventually his hardness taking her. Sometimes she was underneath him, other times she rode him, and then he was taking her from behind. 

Sometimes he was wearing his armor as he claimed her. _She liked that a lot._

The cot rattled more than she had hoped, but there was nothing she could do to stop herself, her body was reacting in the only way it knew how after such a long frustrating dry spell. She sobbed a little more into the pillow as her fingers pumped and rubbed, waves of pleasure rocking her.

It wouldn’t take much longer.

The sound of his voice brought her even closer, she could listen to him bark orders at her all day and then imagine at night how the rich timbre of his voice would whisper sweet nothings in her ear. The rich timbre of his voice, which she suddenly realised, was situated directly outside his tent at that very moment .

Panic seized her, and she quickly withdrew her fingers. She could have screamed - her body hummed with tension, but there was little she could do. She tried to gather her wits about her, covering her face with a blanket to hide any telltale colour and closing her eyes in a vain attempt to fake sleep.

She heard the rustle of the tent flaps and prayed he would be none the wiser.

“Have you been treated well? Has anyone harmed you?” he asked, his tone low.

“No sir,” her tone was still ragged and rasped from her interrupted state. He paused for a moment. She could feel him stare at her intently, even though her eyes remained closed. She very much regretted being so foolish as to have indulged herself - for now not only was she in an extremely aroused state, but the reason for that arousal was looking at her, and about to retire for the evening in a bed only a few feet away.

She didn’t think she would survive the night. If he was going to say anything he seemed to think better of it and instead began to prepare for bed. At least, that is what she assumed he was doing, because she kept her eyes shut tightly.

The creak of the cot told her he was lying down. The pull toward him was so strong she felt as if a rope connected them, getting tighter with each passing moment, pulling her closer to him. However, if she _was_ to go to him, she had no idea what his reaction would be. In any case, she was his prisoner and hardly in a position to make demands.

She lay still, not sure if he had fallen asleep.

It seemed not.

“Don’t get any cute ideas as to why I spared your life today. I had a debt to repay, and leaving you alive and unharmed is the way I shall repay it. A life for a life. That jian you admire so much, it was my father’s. I... killed him - my mother said it wasn’t my fault, but his blood still stains my hands. Today, the opportunity presented itself to wipe the blood clean. That is all.”

She opened her eyes, to see him looking directly at her. He held her gaze as he worried his lip and then rolled over, putting his back to her.

Sleep did not come to her easily. While desire had promptly fled the moment he made his confession, the unease that replaced it held sleep at bay well into the night. When she finally slept, Rey dreamt of bathing, of blades, the searing pain of metal piercing flesh and of strong warm arms wrapping themselves around her.


	5. The Treaty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was only one bed.

It was several days later that she found herself with her back pressed tightly against the chest of Captain Solo as they rode his horse to the Imperial City. She was still shocked at her good fortune, considering all the terrible luck she had experienced so far. 

His armour brushed up against her in time with his horse’s gait, and his chin rested on her shoulder as he peered over to guide him, and at times his breath tickled her ear. She had given up all pretense of not being disturbed by his proximity, for trying to keep her breathing shallow had only resulted in lightheadedness - which she was already feeling in any case as his arms encircled her to hold the reins.

Huns and letters were responsible for their situation.

Swarms of Huns had attacked their contingent as they marched on to the Imperial City. A fierce battle was fought - and the Huns were well armed with crossbows, lances and long handled battle axes that soon became smeared with blood, skin and bone. Rey recognised the First Order insignia on one of the weapons - it seemed the Huns had some assistance. 

It was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. Her heart pounded in her throat, and adrenaline coursed through her veins. There was no hesitation, her training under the Captain had well prepared her to meet the challenge. She knew now that whatever she faced she would be able to protect herself. 

The violence, however, she could not possibly have been prepared for. The base human nature - to kill or be killed - that leads a man to hack, plunge and stab his way through a sea of soldiers without any thought of mercy or moral. Without knowing their names, or sometimes even seeing their faces. People reduced to a nameless enemy.

Mercifully, the Captain had procured her quarterstaff so that she could join the battle - every soldier was needed to fight. They made a formidable team, their time sparring together meant they moved as one, side by side and back to back. It was as if they were performing a macabre and murderous dance.

She had never felt more alive.

At one point they were surrounded - the Captain wielding his bloody jiian, and Rey with her sullied staff. Both were prime Hun targets, Rey because she was a woman, and the Captain because, well, he was the captain. When she deflected the blow of a wooden mace aimed squarely at his head - for the briefest of moments she saw the acknowledgement and pride in his eyes, which was all too fleeting as he moved on to defend the next attack.

While the Huns had the element of surprise, the contingent had training and preparation on their side. It was as if the Imperial Army had one final death defying lesson to prepare them to face the First Order. Eventually, the remaining Huns retreated back into the forest, injured and decimated in numbers. 

Rey collapsed onto the ground, spent and exhausted. She had sustained only a small wound to her arm, it would need medical attention - which she no longer had any reason to fear - but at the same time it was nowhere near as serious as some of the wounds other men had sustained.

She was waiting at the medic station when she saw the new arrival. She recognised his rank from his uniform - another Captain. He was dark and swarthy - it occurred to her that he would be just the type Maz would appreciate. She missed Maz.

He was clearly searching for someone, but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her. “Pray tell how someone as beautiful as you, ended up in a place like this?” He asked incredulously.

“It’s a long story,” she admitted. 

It was then that the Captain stalked up to them, his face dark. While still bloody from the wounds he had inflicted on his foes, there did not appear to be a scratch on him. “Captain Dameron, arriving at the end of the battle as per usual,” he snarled.

“I think I arrived at exactly the right time,” said Captain Dameron with a wink at Rey. She smiled despite herself. He was charming, and she sensed he meant no harm. Captain Solo’s eyes narrowed - he did not seem to share her sentiment.

“What brings you here?” He said sharply.

“I bring a letter from the Empress. You are to return to the Imperial Castle immediately,” Captain Dameron procured a letter bearing the Imperial Crest from inside his uniform.

Rey’s heart sank at the idea of being parted from him. She rather liked the idea of remaining by his side all the way to the city - if she could convince him not to leave her at the nearest village. Of course, she knew she would need to slip away and find the Sookie Wookie as soon as she arrived. Captain Solo snatched the letter from Captain Dameron and tore it open. It was a rather graceless gesture, a far cry from the Captain’s usual composed demeanour. He worried his lip as he read, pausing briefly at times to look at Rey.

“I see you are to replace me in my absence,” he said coolly.

“Yes, I’m sure I can get these men into shape before too long. I can look out for her, too,” Captain Dameron replied, nodding his head at Rey.

“That won’t be necessary,” came the Captain’s clipped reply. “She is under my protection.”

Rey was not sure whether to be flattered or to take umbridge. She knew she was quite able to take care of herself. Still… could that mean that he cared for her, even just a little?

Captain Solo crumpled the letter in his hand, deep in thought. He then turned to a waiting officer.

“Prepare my horse!” he barked, sending the officer scurrying away. “You,” he said, pointing at Rey, “are coming with me.”

Captain Dameron smirked.

“Not like you to take a concubine for the journey, Solo. Can’t say I blame you though,” he remarked.

Captain Solo took a step toward the other man, but Rey was having none of it. She was right there, and didn’t need to be a pawn in their game of one upmanship. He might be the Captain, and she might desperately want to climb him like she had that pole, but she still had her self respect.

“Captain Dameron, I can assure you that no one is needed to “look out” for me, and I am far from a concubine. I will be joining Captain Solo on the basis that it will get me far quicker to my destination than traveling with this motley lot.”

It wasn’t an entirely accurate statement, but she was willing to bend the truth to put an end to their squabbling. Both men turned to look at her in surprise, and Rey glared back at them. 

The officer returned and broke the stalemate to advise Captain Solo his horse was prepared. So that is how she found herself, pressed tightly to him as his breath warmed her ear. As per usual, he was a man of few words, which had given her the opportunity to consider what had been exchanged between them earlier. Her instincts told her that he was perhaps jealous? He had certainly acted as if he was, all very alpha male and protective of her in front of Captain Dameron and the rest of the company - and while she knew she could fend for herself, such behaviour was an indication that he wasn’t entirely neutral toward her. She also saw the way he looked at her in unguarded moments - like during the battle or when overcoming an obstacle like climbing the pole.

It was all covered up by protocol, duty and discipline.

“Don’t get any cute ideas as to why I insisted on bringing you with me. I swore to myself I would protect you, and I always keep my word,” he said gruffly into her ear, breaking the silence. It sent shivers down her spine, but she wasn’t going to let his statement go unchallenged.

“I don’t know that you insisted, as much as I agreed to it,” she quipped. “Although, I do think there is more to it than that.”

“More to what?” he replied, his breath still hot against her skin.

“To bringing me along, to sparing my life,” she replied coolly.

He noticeably stiffened against her, pulling away ever so slightly. “I have no idea what you are referring to,” he muttered.

“Have it your way,” she said lightly.

They were silent for some time, and as much as it was exhilarating to be so close to him, the journey itself had set into her bones. It was as if he could read her mind.

“We will need to stop soon, the next leg of the journey will be treacherous as we travel through the Zhong province. It is much faster than the original route, but the narrow cliffs and crevices are deadly. Mushu will need to be rested and reshod before we attempt it. I know an inn we can stay in for the evening,” he said, giving his steed a gentle pat.

He must have been able to feel her heart pounding in her chest. The exhilaration was now being accompanied by wild lust at the thought of spending a night at the inn with him. Would they share a room? A bed? She hoped so, their time together was fleeting. After fighting side by side, her attraction to him had only intensified, and she was consumed with the need to have him.

As they rounded the path, she gasped at the tall red pavilion that came into sight. It was impressive, set into the rocky cliff behind it, high above the Yangtze River. Consisting of nine levels, each floor was smaller than the one below it - until it was just one solitary room that hung in the sky.

“Shibaozhai Inn,” he said. “Our lodgings for the evening.”

She was unable to speak, it was so beautiful. Her eyes then followed the rest of the landscape. She saw what he meant by treacherous, as the narrow path set into the cliff fell away to no wider than a horse and rider could traverse.

He was none pleased when told that there was only one room available, the Imperial suite at the very top, no less. As they climbed the spiral staircase it was as if her very heart lifted with it in anticipation. The inn keeper was unhappy at the idea of an unwed couple sharing a room, but with a wave of the Captain’s hand the additional yuans proffered helped the man adjust his thinking.

As they entered their room for the night, Rey was at first struck by the sumptuousness of the furnishings. Red and gold brocade, and what looked like the finest silk sheets, with a freestanding bath that claimed the centre of the room - it was the Imperial Suite, after all. 

At the height of the tower, it also delivered a magnificent view of the gorge as it fell away from the cliff. They could see forever, it seemed, and the setting sun cast a reddish golden glow across the land. Any lingering hesitation in her plan to seduce the Captain that evening flew out the window and was dashed onto the cliff face below them. The setting could not have been more romantic.

The Captain blanched as he looked from the bed, to her, to the rest of the room.

“I’ll take the bathtub,” he said grimly.

“Have it your way,” she said lightly. She kept her amusement to herself as she stared at the tiny bath. There was no way he would fit there, much less in comfort, and it was he who had stressed the importance of a good night's sleep.

She walked to the expansive window to drink in the view. It was hard to believe that only a short time before she had been a tavern wench in a bar, but now she was standing at the top of the world about to spend the night with a devastatingly attractive man. Hopefully in the same bed.

As she looked back, she noticed that he had removed his hand and arm armour and the pauldrons that protected his shoulders, revealing the black wool undergarments that protected his skin and kept him warm. Rey eyed him hungrily as her gaze travelled the way his clothing clung to his muscular arms. 

He placed his hands on his breastplate, the blood red dragon sigil of the Imperial House stark against his broad hands. He paused for a moment, as if debating whether to speak, but the moment was interrupted by a knock at the door. Once entry was granted by the Captain, it was flung open to reveal trays of sticky buns, steaming vegetables bathed in delicious sauces and delectable looking custard tarts.

Rey and the Captain looked at each other, wide eyed in wonder, weeks of subsisting on camp rations had left them ravenous for real food. The trays were delivered to the table that looked out over the valley below, and it was indeed a scene befitting of royalty. She blinked as she remembered - indeed he was a prince. She supposed she should pay him more respect as a member of the Imperial Family, but he seemed much more a Captain than a Prince.

"Just so you don’t get any cute ideas, this meal is for sustenance only. It may be some time before we can eat this well again,” he said bluntly. She couldn’t resist smirking, the Captain seemed to protest each time they engaged in anything that could be misconstrued as romantic.

He pulled a chair out for her, a gallant gesture, although she supposed he would brush that away too if she mentioned it. They ate in silence - the food was perhaps the best she had ever eaten, and she attacked it with great gusto.

After a while, she noticed the Captain was looking at her with a strange expression on his face, his chocolate eyes boring into her. She put down her custard tart.

“What are you staring at?” she asked.

“You have sauce on your cheek,” he said. It was hardly worthy of the handbook of seductive techniques - if there was such a thing, she thought to herself.

“This one?” she replied, quickly brushing a finger against her face.

He cleared his throat. “Yes,” he said with a strangled voice.

She cleared the offending condiment from her cheek and stared at it on the end of her finger. Without thinking she stuck it in her mouth to suck the sauce away. She had never heard the sound the Captain made come from a human before. Something between a whining dog and a squawking crane. Their eyes met, and Rey had the feeling that while it would not have made the handbook, it was an effective move nonetheless. She smiled at his darkened face, at which time he returned his attention to the view.

After the meal, she watched as he stood looking from the bath to his armour as he undid the various chest straps. Once he finished his task he cleared his throat again.

“Ah, Rey. I need your assistance,” he said awkwardly.

“Yes, Captain?” she asked brightly, he had never used her name before. She liked the sound of it on his tongue.

“To remove my breast plate, I can’t do it alone.”

She could not help the twitch at the corner of her mouth.

“Certainly, I am under your command,” she said evenly as she crossed the room to stand before him.

She placed her hands on his chest, feeling the scales of his breast plate under her palm. He looked from her hands up to him, and she saw the same look from the river those weeks ago. 

“Tell me what to do,” she said softly.

He spoke slowly, as if trying to regulate his breathing. “There are straps at my shoulders and sides which are hard for me to reach. Can you see them?” 

“I can see them,” she purred as she began to release the buckles, one by one. She was sure to allow her fingers to brush up the side of his body and his broad shoulders. It was as if electricity surged between them, and she couldn’t help but begin to shake. He was so close - he could kiss her with only the slightest shift. She didn’t look at his face, but she knew he was watching her intently.

“Is that all of them?” she asked, looking up at him under her lashes.

“I believe so,” he said, his voice low. To her disappointment, instead of crushing her to his chest in a kiss, he stepped back to pull his breast plate over his head. The movement pulled up his undershirt to reveal his stomach and abdominal muscles, which he straightened the moment he had placed his armor at the foot of the bed.

With his hair disheveled, and the black from his undershirt contrasting against the creamy white of his skin, Rey had never been so aroused. It seemed as if he was similarly rendered as he stared at her, his lips blood red and his chest heaving. The Captain seemed to have a great deal more self control than she had bargained for, as he suddenly brushed past her to collect an assortment of pillows and blankets to pad out the bath.

“Good night, Rey,” he said firmly.

She climbed into bed, watching him in the dim light of the bedside lamp as he tried to find a way to make himself comfortable in the bathtub. His long legs and broad shoulders stuck out with comical effort. She giggled and he glared at her.

“You can join me here,” she suggested smoothly. “I won’t bite, and as you said - you need your rest, and the bath will not provide any comfort. You know it and I know it.”

He snorted, then cursed and then struggled to get out of the bath. He strode to the other side of the bed and arranged himself on top of the blanket.

Rey rolled onto her side to face him. "Better?” she asked with a raised brow.

“Yes,” he grumped with his eyes closed. 

Rey knew that half the battle was getting him into the bed in the first place, he was as stubborn as a mule.

“Captain?” 

He turned his head to face her with one eye open.

“Yes?”

“We may die tomorrow,” she said deliberately. “Perhaps plunge to our deaths on the cliff face, or die at the hands of the First Order. For all we know, tonight is the last night the both of us have left on earth,” she said, nonchalantly.

He snorted. “Speak for yourself,” was his reply.

She rolled her eyes, suddenly frustrated by his attitude as well as his proximity. “You jibe at me for losing my temper,” she said pointedly. “But really, your arrogance is your downfall. After all, a mere woman beat you in a staff fight.”

She knew that would sting, that particular truth was yet to be discussed. Both his eyes were open to glare at her now. 

“You would do well to treat your commanding officer with respect,” he growled, and it thrilled her to no end. She was feeling bolder with each passing moment.

“You are _not_ my commanding officer,” she continued, wanting to get a rise from him. “Really, training the troops bare to the waist. Displaying your impressive physique like a strutting peacock. You have designs on yourself, Captain Solo.”

“Oh, so you noticed my impressive physique then,” he smirked. 

“I absolutely did, just as much as you noticed me when we bathed together in the river. I heard you in your tent afterward. You wanted me, even when you were trying to make a _man_ out of me,” she retorted.

His jaw dropped at her impudence, which was quickly replaced by outrage.

“Just so you don’t get any cute ideas about why I am sharing the bed with you,” he spluttered, “it is because I need to be well rested to face what is ahead.” 

“Oh, do shut up Captain,” she said in exasperation. She was tired of his protests.

He looked at her incredulously as she glared back.

“I knew you were trouble,” he muttered as he suddenly pounced, pushing her back against the bed and claiming her lips with his. 

It was mind altering to have the tension between them broken, and after a moment to collect herself, Rey moaned as his tongue sought hers. His hands were everywhere - her hips, her breasts, in her hair, there was no part of her that he did not want to explore. His hard body pressed insistently to hers, and she longed to wrap her legs around him, but the blanket was still between them. He grunted in frustration, roughly pulling it down so he could be closer to her.

She was lost in the animalistic nature of his attentions, which were almost brutish in nature, but she did not shy away from them for a moment. She was full of the same intensity herself, running her hands along his body, kicking at the blankets to be free.

Once she was unencumbered, he rolled between her legs as she wrapped around him. He paused for a moment then as he buried his face into her neck, and she could feel his arousal pressed hard between her thighs. Mad with desire, she ground against it, causing him to growl and thrust to meet her.

“Dumpling,” he moaned against her skin. “I desire you so badly it hurts. You were right - even down by the river I wanted you. I was so confused.”

Her heart fluttered in her chest to hear him call her that, and to hear him admit how he felt about her. He adjusted to look at her, in the dim light his eyes were dark pools of desire.

“We are both wearing too many clothes,” he observed. “Protocol requires us to be naked, immediately.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied with a cheeky grin.

Sitting up, they kissed passionately as they tore off their clothing, only breaking when Ben pulled his undershirt over his head. The moment they were entirely naked he crushed her to him in a passionate embrace. Rey marvelled at how it had all gone from seduction to frustration to realisation in a matter of minutes. If she had known that all it took was impudence and a saucy attitude, she could have had him days ago.

She very much wanted him to claim her virginity, but at the same time, at the rate they were going, she might not be in a fit condition to make the rest of the journey. She had seen what lurked beneath his undergarments, and now she felt it pressed hot against her stomach.

She broke their kiss to look back at him. The final terms of their treaty were yet to be negotiated. 

“Tell me, what is the protocol for a woman’s first time?” She asked.

He tilted his head and raised his brow in surprise. “Oh - I had not considered that… I was rather carried away in the heat of the moment..” His face pursed in consternation.”Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked softly.

“Benjamin,” she said huskily, daring to speak his name aloud. He did not flinch. “I want you to take me.”

“Ben,” he corrected.

“Ben,” she replied, her eyes locked to his. “I want you to take me.”

“Good,” was his gruff reply. “I very much want to take you. As to protocol… ladies choice would seem appropriate.”

She grinned.

“I want to be on top,” she said.

“As you wish,” he said, and without skipping a beat, he rolled onto his back, taking her with him. She shifted, pushing herself upright on her hands to sit astride him. From this vantage point she could see his broad chest and his handsome face looking up at her in wonder. He already looked utterly ruined, with swollen lips, tousled hair and a completely besotted punch drunk expression on his face.

How quickly things had changed. The moment he had stopped fighting their attraction, he had stopped fighting her. She liked the man beneath the armor, and she was thrilled that under all the pomp and bluster there was also a playful side to him.

“Don’t finish inside me,” she instructed.

“I wasn’t intending to - though aren’t you going to die tomorrow?” he said cockily. She was too swept away in the moment to do anything but laugh. 

She began to glide along his length, and until that moment she had not realised just how wet for him she was. He groaned as he gained the same understanding. She hissed at the sensation, it was amazing, moving along him, skin to skin. She was hit by the need to have him inside her as soon as she could manage.

“Given your current status, do you think you will require instruction on how to tackle a pole?” he asked, his head tilted to one side and a glint in his eye.

“Oh, I’m sure your training will hold me in good stead,” she purred. “Anyway, I’ve tackled bigger poles than this one, and while bearing weights, remember?”

He laughed and she bent down to kiss him, threading her hand between her legs to position him in place. 

“Are sure you are ready?’ he huffed against her mouth.

“I have been ready since you held me at the tavern,” she replied cheekily. “As well as in your tent that night. You interrupted me, at least _I_ had the decency to allow you to finish.”

“I _knew_ it, and it drove me crazy at the thought,” he remarked, jolting as she began to slide down onto him. “I was so hard as I laid there, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it.”

She couldn’t resist throwing back what he said to her at the river some weeks ago.

“Oh, I think there was plenty you could have done about it,” she replied silkily. “All you needed was conviction and determination.” 

“Touche,” was the reply.

Their shared grin was quickly replaced with wide eyed ecstasy as she pushed him inside. She shuddered as she felt the entirety of him pressing up into her, it was overwhelming, exciting and foreign all at the same time. It also felt good, very very good. She pressed down a little more, and felt the resistance ease as she opened up to him.

She was determined to take all of him, all at once. She pushed down again, but this time a searing pain tore through her, forcing a grimace.

“Rey,” Ben said softly, breaking her train of thought. “Sometimes a gentler approach is best. Also, the aloe and moleskin that repaired your foot is still in Mushu’s saddle, and we have a long journey ahead on horseback. Can you let me try something?” There was a hint of a smile at his lips.

She nodded, mastering his pole was proving harder than she thought.

His hand slid in between them, and he gently began to rub at her pleasure spot. She keened as desire overtook again, and she began to rock her hips. He rubbed harder and faster, her mouth dropped open with a strangled moan as she felt herself take him in a little more with each motion. It was nothing like what she did for herself - the intensity, the closeness to him, it was far more than she had anticipated. The emotional bond that was fast building between them was another thing entirely, it was alien, comforting, but also a little frightening to be that connected to him so quickly.

“You are doing so well, my dumpling,” he said as he cupped her cheek with his other hand, and that was all it look for her to fully bear down on him as she pulsed and stretched around him. She knew at that moment that she was safe in his arms, in his bed, and by his side in battle.

They both gasped at the heat that exchanged between them, and he throbbed inside her - full and hard. She gave herself a moment to adjust, it was like a delicious sting, but she didn’t feel quite ready to move just yet. With the hand that still caressed her cheek he brought her down, tenderly kissing her till she felt herself completely ease around him. She rocked just slightly, to test how it felt, and the tension inside her exploded.

She was ready for more.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

She sat up with him fully seated inside, his fingers still stroking her. Her gait was awkward at first, but after she placed her hands on his hard stomach, using them as leverage to piston up and down, she began to find her rhythm. The position caused her breasts to jut out in front of her, bouncing as she moved. Unable to resist, Ben moved his hand from her face to brush a pebbled peak.

It was glorious to ride him like that, so much better than she had imagined. Each movement igniting a new sensation inside her. He began to meet her rocking with his own thrusts, causing her to keen and almost lose her balance. They rose together higher and higher, each thrust and stroke bringing them closer to completion. Their groans and pants filled the room, and she was sure it would have carried out into the gorge below, but she was not concerned with such things.

Just with him.

She arched her back and found a new type of pleasure, leaving her gasping for breath. She felt herself feel like she would lose control. The pleasure assaulted her from everywhere - his hand at her nipple, his fingers stroking her, and his hardness buried deep within her was creating a delicious pressure inside her that started somewhere deep in her and spread through her stomach and chest.

That the Captain was allowing her to dominate him, to ride him as she pleased was not lost on her. She adjusted the angle so she sat upon him that little bit higher, then impaled herself on him. They both groaned as she took him harder.

She keened as he began to lose control, pumping up into her, moving his hand to her shoulder meant each thrust was felt entirely.

“Gods,” she cried. “This is better than anything. Better than battle, better than vanquishing your enemies, better than besting you in a sparring session.”

“You are the most amazing woman I have ever met. I would go into battle with you before anyone else,” he said through gritted teeth as she continued to ride him.

His praise and his fingers were what was needed to finally tip her over the edge, and as she began to clench and pulse, she groaned as long weeks of pent up frustration were finally released. Wave after wave of pleasure claimed her, and as he thrust up into her she screamed long and hard. She collapsed onto him and he swore, quickly pulling out and bringing himself to completion as he rutted against her backside. It was hot and slick on her skin, and she marvelled at the sounds he made as he grunted and moaned. It reminded her of that night she heard him while she stood outside his tent, only much, much better. 

He collapsed back into the bed, completely spent, then clumsily grabbed the far corner of the sheet to wipe her clean. She giggled - sex was messy.

She gazed down at him, the intensity of what they had shared washed over them both. As did the relief that they finally were able to be free. No more titles or regulations. No more hiding or frustration, no more confusion or deception. Just each other, exactly as they were.

“Wow,” she said softly, kissing him on the lips. “That was beyond my experience and my wildest imaginings.”

“Same, Rey, same. Well, actually I did imagine it like that with you… many times, alone in my tent."

She giggled, exhausted. She rolled over back onto the bed, tucking herself the crook of his arm.

“I think I just made a man out of you, Captain,” she muttered sleepily.

“My dumpling, you are certainly proficient with tackling a pole,” he chuckled in reply. “We best sleep now, we still have a long journey ahead.”

She grunted in agreement. He snuggled her to him a little more before they both drifted away in each other's arms.


	6. The Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Captain Solo and Rey desperately race to the Imperial City before it's too late.

“Rey, wake up, dumpling,” The Captain’s voice was low and urgent as he shook her from her slumber. Upon opening her eyes, she saw he was almost fully dressed in his armor. 

“We need to leave immediately,” he said, his face dark with concern. “I will explain on the way.”

They readied in silence, Rey finding her clothes strewn at the foot of the bed and on the floor. It was a reminder of the previous night’s passion, but in the cold light of day it seemed that there was no time to dwell on it. She fixed the straps on his breastplate, not daring to say a word. He was in another place, and she stole the odd glance at his face but knew better to question him. Weeks under his tutelage had taught her that when he was in a mindset such as this, it was best to leave him to his thoughts.

She winced as she sat on Mushu, the saddle pressing cruelly into her tenderness from the previous night’s activities. Noticing her reaction, he went to speak, his face clouded in concern but she shook her head. There was nothing that could be done for it, and she didn’t regret it for a moment. He sat behind her, holding her close; she leaned into him, sighing as he rested his chin on her shoulder. He was still there, and he longed to be as close to her as she did to him.

Looking at the long stretch ahead, she braced herself for the precarious journey. At barely one horse wide, the trail was surrounded by certain death. The towering cliffs above were dotted with boulders that threatened to give way at any moment, crushing a man in its wake. Below, the plunge was at least a one hundred and thirty foot drop to certain doom. If a rider was fortunate enough to miss being impaled on the jagged rocks, the churning Yangtze river was sure to have them join their ancestors. She was grateful for her pole training - she still had a healthy respect for heights, but was no longer terrified.

The only sounds came from the torrent below and the occasional rock dislodged by Mushu when he stumbled. The stallion’s ears were pressed flat against his head, and the thin sheen of sweat covering his mane and flanks told Rey he too was afraid. Ben’s arm around her waist was getting tighter and tighter, and what was once comforting soon began to feel like she was in the coil of a python while his chin dug into her.

“Captain… do you think now is a good time to share what is on your mind?” She was in this with him for better or worse, she knew she couldn’t leave him to find Chewie at the Sookie Wookie. She needed to know so she could help.

“You should be able to see it in a moment.” he said heavily, tension radiating from his body and into her. She ached to hold him, to comfort him; she could sense his pain and worry, but knew that until whatever challenge was overcome, that it would only serve to distract.

Rounding the corner, she frowned as she saw a thin column of smoke curling far beyond the forest. Ben immediately straightened against her.

“What’s burning?” Rey asked, biting her lip. It was a foreboding sign.

“The Imperial City,” he said quietly. “The First Order laid siege early this morning, breaching the walls at dawn. The people are hidden in the catacombs beneath the city, and should be safe until the Army arrives in the evening. The Empress is barricaded within the palace, but it won’t protect her for more than half a day.”

She shuddered in horror. “How long will it take for us to reach her?”

“Half a day,” he said thickly. “I can’t push Mushu any faster at this stage in the journey, especially with two riders. I’m hoping to make up time once we reach the end of the gorge.”

Panic gripped her. “Oh, you can leave me at the end of the gorge if you need to, I can walk the rest of the journey,” she said quickly.

“No!” Ben barked, startling Mushu who began to slide down the embankment. Rey squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable fall to her death. Ben frantically righted his steed, yanking at the reins until Mushu found his footing again. They both gave a sigh of relief, before he pulled her close again.

“Please, don’t leave me,” he breathed into her ear. “I need you by my side. I can’t take on Snoke and the First Order alone. Not again.”

"Again?”

He paused, frozen. There was an awkward silence before he spoke again. 

“Many years ago I faced the First Order - and Snoke - alone. I was only just a man, barely eighteen. I was full of bravado, but lacking in skill. They were closing in on the city and ready to breach the wall. Impatient, I went out to face them, disobeying the General’s orders. I believed I could prove to my parents that I would make a fine Emperor. That they could believe in me.”

He hesitated, and this time when he spoke his voice was thick with emotion.

“I stood before Snoke, and he mocked the awkward boy that stood before him. Enraged, I charged, only to be intercepted by the General and the then Colonel Ackbar. The Colonel scooped me up onto his horse, carrying me back into the safety of the city, while the General defended us from attack. The Colonel and I survived, and the First Order retreated back over the Great Wall. But the General didn’t make it. The Empress forgave me for my transgression, but I could not forgive myself. Because, it was not only the General who died as a result of my recklessness - it was also my father.”

She gasped; these were not the tales of the battle she had heard in the tavern.

“The stories they tell about the great General Solo and how he died, they never mentioned you.”

His guilt weighed heavily upon him, she could feel it.

“The palace went to great lengths to keep what I had done a secret, but I still knew. I still felt the disapproval and heard the whispers of the court officials. My mother, as strong as she is, was no match against them. So I took my father’s jian and his armour, and joined the army. To atone for what I had done, for the hurt I had caused, and to hide from the shame I befell my dynasty. But it never felt like I had cleared my debt… not until I spared you.”

She could see they were reaching the end of the gorge and would soon head into the thick forest that lay between them and the palace. Peace spread between the three of them. Ben’s grip on her had relaxed, and Mushu’s ears were now pointed in an alert but calm manner atop his head. She patted his mane in thanks for taking them safely along the trail, and he snorted in an appreciative reply. For a large and imposing beast, he certainly was a gentle and noble soul, once she was able to peel off the hard outer layer.

No wonder he and Ben were so well suited.

“Ben, you didn’t just spare my life, you brought me _to_ life. I should never hope to spend another night in a tent with my fellow soldiers again, with the belching, scratching, flatulence and other night time activities that I have blocked from my memory.” She could feel him grimace against her cheek. “But in that time, under your instruction, I have grown so much as a soldier, a fighter, a defender… and as a woman” she said blushing. “I will follow you until the ends of the earth and back again.”

He nuzzled her face and gently kissed her temple. She reached behind to stroke his cheek and it was damp with tears.

“My dumpling, we have much to discuss. Let us make a pact to survive this day and plan for a future together,” he said, a smile in his voice despite his emotion.

“Deal,” she replied with the same expression.

The relief once they were on terra firma again was palpable. Now that the gorge was behind them, she had not realised just how tense she had been along their journey; whether it was from the terrain, the conversation or both she couldn’t tell. She just knew that they had crossed into a new way of being with each other, of working together as halves of the same entity.

“Ready, soldier?” he asked.

“As I will ever be, Captain.”

With that he gave Mushu a firm nudge with his heels, and they were off through the forest.

___________

As they closed the distance between themselves and the Imperial City, the acrid smell of battle and destruction began to invade her senses. The forest had acted like a shield, protecting them from what was unfolding in the city. But now that the trees were more sparse, there was no longer a barrier between them and the gunpowder, smoke and death. She could hear the roar of fire as it claimed another part of the capital. It was unlike anything she had experienced, and it made the hair on her arms raise in fear. She was facing an unfamiliar enemy in an unfamiliar place.

Soon another noise could also be made out underneath the fire’s destruction, the sound of soldiers in combat. It was the determined and fierce war cry of the Imperial Guard defending the city and its people; matched by the brutal and bloodcurdling screeching of the First Order in their attack.

She shivered.

“Stay close to me, soldier. We will be safe entering at the south wall of the city; the First Order attacked from the north. If we are separated, go high, you will always be able to see the palace from that vantage point.” 

“How will I know which one is the palace?” she asked.

“Well, it’s the only building covered in gold, so that’s your first clue,” he said with slight bewilderment.

She bristled; she should like to drop him off at the far end of Nymeve Lake and see how well he did. It was all very well for him, he grew up in it. He tenderly stroked her waist and kissed the shell of her ear.

“My dumpling, I see I have raised your hackles again. I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry. Strength and discipline are the key. Strength and discipline.”

She nodded mutely. She couldn’t let her ire take hold, this was life and death, not a sparring match. They had now reached the edge of the forest, and Rey was able to see across the valley below. The Imperial City lay before them, not twenty miles away, and what once must have been a gleaming example of beauty and power was now crumbling into ash and rubble. The trees no longer protected them from the smoke, it stung her eyes and she began to cough.

With a strangled cry at the scene before him, Ben led his steed into an almighty gallop. She didn’t know where Mushu found the energy, but he remained strong. Ben held her close as they raced; she knew he needed her, he wanted her and he was going to protect her; and she would fight by his side.

Suddenly, they veered from the road that led into the city. She was confused as they stopped at the far left of the wall. Were they to climb? What would happen to Mushu? She could hear fighting on the other side of the wall, and the sound made her sick to her stomach.

“Open this door under the orders of her royal highness the Empress,” Ben bellowed, and a narrow opening appeared before them, just enough to fit a human arm. Well, as long as that arm was not the impressive size of the Captain’s.

“Papers!” came a voice through the wall. 

Ben withdrew the letter from his saddle bag, swearing as his hand would not fit though the opening. 

“Soldier!” he barked at her in desperation.

Quickly she grabbed the papers and thrust the letter into the hole, feeling it snatched by an unseen hand. Silence followed for several moments, before the echo of excited chatter drifted out to them. She startled as a section of the wall began to recede before them, just enough for them to fit through on their horse, as long as they stooped their heads.

Mushu stumbled into the opening behind the wall, exhausted from the journey. Ben slid down from his steed’s back, taking Rey with him. Uncoupling it from the saddle, he thrust Rey’s staff into her waiting hands, issuing rapid fire orders at the castle guards to take care of his animal.

“Yes, your Highness,” was the reverent reply.

Confident his horse would be tended to, he grabbed Rey by the arm and ran for the door that led into the city. He paused before opening it, gazing down at her and they shared a brief, unspoken moment. She nodded and he shoved the door open, running together straight into chaos. The walls had dampened the sound of battle, as did the smell. Everywhere Rey looked there was a brutish First Order soldier engaged in hand to hand combat with a member of the Imperial Guard. It was the red that overwhelmed her, the red of the Imperial Guard uniforms and the rivers of red that flowed across the cobblestones.

They cut through the crowded streets, dodging and defending the blows that rained down on them. Blessedly for them both, the First Order - while menacing - were terrible marksmen, so it was easy to avoid injury. Once again they fought side by side, intuitively sensing the other’s next move and responding to match it. 

They came to an open square, thick with combat. Out of nowhere she caught sight of an iron mace swinging towards her. Her staff would be shattered into a thousand pieces if she blocked, so instead she ducked, bringing her staff crashing into her unseen attacker’s legs. She heard the sickening crunch of broken bones, and the anguished wail of her defeated assailant. She bared her teeth as she looked at the man lying prone before her. His helmet had dislodged, and as he looked up at her all she could see was pain… and fear. She paused, unprepared for the humanity reflected back at her, and at her sudden empathy for this fallen soldier. He squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the final blow to send him to the afterlife.

She could not finish this man - he was not the same as the Huns she and Ben had fought in the days before.

There was no time to reflect further, she could see Ben cutting a path through the throng, and she was fast losing him. He turned back, plunging his weapon into his enemy behind him; his face anxious as he looked for her.

“Rey!” she saw him yell in desperation, though his voice was drowned out by the thunderous noise around them.

“Ben!” she rang back, and she had never seen such a look of relief on a man’s face as he laid eyes on her again. “I can’t reach you.” she screamed. She was sure he couldn’t hear her, but he seemed to understand.

“Go high!” he yelled, pointing upward.

She nodded, defending herself from a mighty axe taking aim at her shoulder. 

“I love you,” he mouthed before disappearing from sight before she could respond in kind. It was as if her heart had been ripped from her chest, and she was terrified she might never see him again. She could not let him fight against the dark forces of Snoke alone, she had to reach the palace.

Running for the nearest building, she nimbly scaled up the wall, using the windowsill and shingled verandah for leverage. As soldiers from the First Order climbed after her, she used her staff to pry them away in sharp jabbing motions. Soon she was atop of the building, looking out across a sea of yellow glazed roofs. All around her was smoke and fire; she could see the enemy was deep within the city walls. With a sinking feeling she realised it may already be too late to save the Empress. Distracted, a tile dislodged from under her, and she slipped. She began to lose grip on her staff, with an almost superhuman reflex she clung to the building with one hand while the other reached out to save her weapon.

She felt sweet relief as she firmly wrapped her hand around it again, and she swore she would focus more on her footing. She stood again, shielding her eyes from the falling ash.

Turning more carefully this time, she caught a golden gleam. Taking a deep breath, she made out a path across the city that would avoid the flames and rubble. She broke into a sprint, the clatter of her boots on the tiles filling the air. There was no time for fear, every second was precious. As she reached the edge, she took a flying leap of faith, and jumped across onto the next building. This time she was as sure footed as a cat, her landing firm and strong. Confidence coursed through her, and she immediately crossed to the next building and the next, the palace and Ben firmly in her sights. Nothing would stand in her way.

Coming to the last building that fell away to the palace gates, she anxiously scanned for any sight of Ben. She almost fell onto her knees and off her perch when she saw him, unmistakable in his red and blue armour, his jian soaked in the blood of his enemy. He had the strength of an ox; nothing stood in his path. She could see the First Order fall away rather than meet his punishment, and she was overcome with a desire that curled deep in her belly. She quickly pushed it aside, If they both survived, there would be ample time to attend to that later. She had to get back to him.

She scaled back down to the ground, quickly recovering from her crouch to spring into action. Her staff kept attackers at bay, and she closed the distance between herself and the man she loved. Strength and determination filled her, and when he turned and saw her by his side again, and the smile that spread across his beautiful face could raise one thousand lanterns and light one thousand signal fires.

But the smile only lasted a moment as fear registered across his face.

“Rey! Watch out!” he screamed. She noticed the shadow crossing her path much too late, quickly turning as she was enveloped in a flurry of feathers and sharp metal tipped claws. An ear splitting screech pierced her brain; unable to avoid attack she spun away, crying out as flesh was cruelly gouged from her arm.

His blade cut through the air, but the bird was faster, flurrying away as quickly as it had arrived. He was pale as he watched the mighty falcon sail across the palace courtyard and between the massive red columns flanking the entrance to the great hall.

“The bird belongs to Snoke,” he gasped. “Come on!”

Unified again, they hacked, stabbed and swung their way towards the palace, gripped by the knowledge that the Empress was in the Supreme Leader’s clutches. Pure adrenaline spurred them on, powering the swing of her quarterstaff and the powerful thrust of his jian. Finally inside the palace, he ran down the ruins of what must have been an impressive hallway, its fine statues and priceless art now reduced to rubble and shards. She kept up as well as she could, his strides worth double hers. He crashed through the giant red doors, revealing a great hall. Moments later she joined his side, horrified by what lay before her.

The bodies of countless Imperial Guards were strewn across the room, each soldier willing to die for his Empress. At the throne sat a giant man dressed in golden armour smeared with the blood of vanquished men. He was cross legged, a foot idly dangling in a display of disrespect and arrogance. Even from afar Rey could see how grotesque he was - barely human. Beside him, a red headed man stood, sneering at the new arrivals. At the foot of the throne was a woman, crumpled on the floor, her face hidden by her arms. Distraught she realised they were too late to save her.

The man in gold snarled as Ben began to walk towards him, cutting a path through the dead, with Rey not far behind. “Well, if it isn’t the little prince,” he laughed. “So good to see you boy, you were unable to save your father from my blade, and now you will witness your mother meet the same fate.”

“I will have your head,” replied the Captain as he strode. “For my father, for my mother and for me.”

The man in gold gave a kick to the ribs of the woman at his feet, but she made no sound. “You will have nothing by the time I am finished with you, and I will have everything. Ultimate power, ultimate control. I will never be defeated, and the terror of the First Order will reign across the land.”

Ben stood before the stairs that led up to the throne. “Snoke, after I have your head, I will parade it before your men, so they can see that their pathetic leader is no more. They will bow to me.” The blood lust in his voice frightened her; this was a side of him she had never seen before, not even when they were battling the Huns.

It was the red headed man’s turn to laugh. “It’s over, you fool. We have the high ground.”

“We shall see, Hux,” Ben replied, his voice ice cold. He raised his sword for attack, and Rey followed suit with her staff. She was terrified; they were at a distinct disadvantage. As intent as she was on finishing the men at the top of the stairs, she almost missed the lightning fast flash of steel at the foot of the throne. Snoke howled in agony, madly scrabbling at the dagger embedded in the joint between foot and ankle that was exposed by his armour. The Empress quickly rolled away and behind the velvet curtains that flanked the throne. She was safely out of reach of the screaming man, whose blood was now seeping from the open wound.

Ben seized his chance, bolting up the stairs in attack mode, with Rey hot on his heels. The red headed man stumbled back in surprise, reaching for his sword but missing it in his panic. 

“Take Hux - I’ll protect my mother,” Ben barked.

Her target almost had a grip on his weapon; Rey jabbed her staff at his hand but he was too quick, slithering out of the reach with his blade at the ready. Snoke flung the dagger from his foot and it skidded across the floor, as Ben raised his jian with deadly intent. The clash of metal on metal rang through the air as his enemy produced his own blade in self defence.

Rey moved in closer, bringing Hux within reach of attack. She swung her staff, and while he blocked her blow with his sword, he was still thrown back from the momentum. From the corner of her eye, she could see Ben and Snoke in a fierce battle, despite the others' wounds. Snoke seemed almost superhuman, as if powered by demonic spirits. She desperately wanted to go to Ben’s aid, but she knew she had to defeat Hux first. 

Movement from above alerted her to a new danger.

“Ben! Look out!”

The falcon swooped past her, its target set on the Captain. Snoke dropped back to watch as the bird launched an attack, as Ben ducked just in time. Fear gripped her; the playing field had suddenly tilted in the enemy’s favour. If Snoke was able to get a clear shot, Ben would not survive… and neither would she.

_Strength and discipline._

She dropped to the floor, bringing her staff around in the low sweep to topple Hux. She didn’t need to kill him, just to immobilise. A quick jab to the head with the butt of her weapon knocked him out cold. Without hesitation she ran to Ben, knocking the falcon through the air, breaking its wing. Snoke’s malevolent grin melted as Ben rushed at him, his blade screaming through the air. The thud of his head hitting the ground separate from the rest of his body was a gruesome but welcome sound.

Ben spun around the room in panic. “Mother!”

The Empress crawled out from behind the curtains, pale and sore but otherwise quite alive. “The soldiers,” she croaked. “Stop the fighting and put an end to the mindless destruction.”

Ben was not one to disobey a direct order. Picking up the severed head, he dumped it into Rey’s surprised arms before gently picking up his mother to take her out to the courtyard. Glancing at a clearly injured and unconscious Hux they nodded in silent agreement; they would deal with him later. 

Shaking with emotion, the Empress clung for dear life as her son carried her down the hall, and back into the chaos of the open air. He gently placed his mother back onto her feet, and Rey was quick to pass the severed head back to him so she could help steady her. Holding his prize aloft, his voice boomed across the courtyard. 

“Soldiers of the First Order, here is your leader!” 

Silence quickly dominated the scene as one by one each man turned to witness the macabre sight. Rey was in awe of his commanding presence, and she swooned as she drank him in, in all his glory. She had to have him in his armour somehow, someplace, in some way - soon.

“Five hours from now, the next contingent of the Imperial Army will arrive, fresh and prepared for battle. I grant each of you amnesty until this time. Leave your weapons, gather your fellow soldiers. Go back over the wall and home to your families. Never darken my kingdom again, or you will suffer the same fate as your slain leader,” he said, holding his conquest higher for good measure.

Several heartbeats passed in silence, only to be unceremoniously broken as swords crashed to the ground. The First Order would take the offer of mercy. All around victory cheers rang out across the city as fires were extinguished and injured men were tended to.

“You’re letting them go?” Rey asked incredulously.

“They are not our enemy,” Empress Leia said sagely. “These are men forcefully conscripted and enslaved to do the bidding of evil. They deserve their freedom.”

Rey didn’t think she could love her Captain any more than she did at that moment. Ben turned and smiled at his mother, his face taking on a far more intent look as he gazed at Rey.

She locked her eyes with his. “I love you, Ben.”

He came towards her, with a knowing look the Empress quietly stepped from Rey’s grasp. Ben gathered her in a victorious kiss, dipping her as he did. There was something about being ravished as he was in his armor that released the animal in her and she growled as she threaded her fingers into his hair. 

“Just like his father,” the Empress observed with a rueful chuckle. After a few moments, she began tapping her foot impatiently. Reluctantly Ben broke the kiss, smiling down at her before turning to look at his mother.

Empress Leia snorted. “Care to make an introduction?”

“Yes, Mother,” he replied, straightening the pair of them, but not releasing his hold on her. “Your Royal Highness, Empress Leia Organa Solo, I would like to introduce you to Rey. Rey, this is the Empress. Mother, Rey is the finest soldier I have had by my side. She is also the woman I will love until the end of time.”

Rey was hit with the notion that there was some kind of protocol or formality she should be observing, while at the same time her head was swimming from his declaration. She wobbled as she attempted to kneel before her ruler, but Ben held her tight.

The Empress laughed and enveloped them in a warm and loving embrace. “No need for formalities my dear, we are family now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Armor sex is next. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.


	7. The Happily Ever After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Sung to the tune of Baby Shark)  
> Armor sex  
> Do do di do di do  
> Armor sex  
> Do do di do di do  
> Armor sex  
> Do do di do di do  
> Armor sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I watched Excalibur (1981) to go back to the movie that inspired this little arrangement, and it turns out that what I thought was a scorching hot scene when I was 13 turned out to be 30 secs of awkward grunting. Hopefully this one is better.
> 
> I'm so pleased that I finished this story, I'm proud of it.

Rey laid in wait for her target in the shadows, like a tiger stalking her prey. She could sense the time was near and she no longer had the discipline needed to sate her hunger. She knew it was forbidden for her to enter his private chambers, but she didn’t care. She was driven to fulfill this fantasy. He was so beautiful and strong in his armor and she was desperate to know how it felt against her naked skin as he took her.

As she waited for this return, she thought about how much her world had changed. Soon after the taste of victory had dissipated and the work of rebuilding the Imperial City began, he had asked for her hand in marriage. She had immediately agreed, although the court officials had taken their time to issue their approval.

First, they had shaken their heads in dismay because Rey’s birth time and date were unknown, so they were unable to compare her BaZi chart with his.

“How will we know the Prince and barmaid are compatible in marriage?” They clucked.

Then they had wrung their hands over Rey’s missing Pedigree Chart. The Prince, of course, had one going back to the very first Emperor. Rey’s unfortunately only went as far as herself.

“What if she has undesirable ancestors?” they complained. “Surely the Prince could find a bride from a family of equal standing? Much better for the kingdom.” They had nodded in agreement with each other.

The Empress was having none of it.

“I intend that the Prince should live at the palace and provide special support to me. He will not stay if he cannot marry the woman he loves. Are you daring to suggest that I should send my son away? That I should be separated from my grandbabies when they come?”

The officials had the grace to look ashamed.

“My son has found his equal, a woman worth fighting for,” she proclaimed from her throne, her son standing at her side. “Let it be known that any person who opposes this union will be committing an act of high treason… and join Admiral Hux in the dungeon. It is not a pleasant experience.“

The warning was heeded. While those inside the palace disapproved in silence, the people welcomed their soon to be princess - a strong woman like their beloved Empress. She was no longer treated as a tavern wench, with no respect and no agency. Instead, she was lifted on their shoulders and treated as royalty.

The people were also overjoyed that Prince Benjamin had returned to them. They did not care for Pedigree Charts or ancestors; even the matchmakers who would have sold their souls to arrange his marriage were happy. Ben sensed their forgiveness for what had happened to his father; he felt their love for him as much as he felt Rey’s. He was at peace.

The Wedding Banquet was a much less peaceful affair - the Imperial City came to a standstill as to celebrate the marriage of Prince Benjamin to his beautiful Rey. Maz was in attendance, beaming as she was escorted by the tallest and hairiest man Rey had ever seen. The feast was also unlike anything Rey had ever laid eyes on. Although if truth be told, it was not a patch on the one with Ben the night he first made love to her. 

So the happy couple sat in bemused silence while the festivities continued around them, sneaking away at the first opportunity to consummate their union. This was especially important as Captain Dameron was rumoured to have an elaborate Pranks of the Bride planned. He was still rather put out that the Prince had stolen his thunder and saved the city before his contingent could arrive. Prince Benjamin always took great pains to remind him of that. So time was of the essence before Rey could be “kidnapped” and held to ransom. In the months since their wedding, their days had fallen into a routine of sorts - rebuilding the city, and her husband was often sent away on special missions to keep the kingdom safe. Tonight he was returned from a particularly dangerous one, insurgents had been reporting near the Great Wall and he had led a small contingent out to neutralise the threat.

Her reminiscing was interrupted by the sound of a door opening and the tell tale creak of his leather armor; she shrank back further to secure her hiding place. The skirt of her white gossamer thin silk dress rustled ever so slightly and she caught her breath - she wanted to be found only by him. She hoped the roaring hearth would provide enough cover.

Through the screen she could see the outline of him in firelight. He paused, then turned his head to murmur an order to his squire. With a bow, the other man took his leave, and they were alone.

There were several moments of silence before his deep voice rang out.

“Come out from your hiding place, dumpling. Your Captain is waiting eagerly for you.”

The thrill of what was to come surged through her - but she wasn’t ready to reveal herself just yet. She curved her leg from behind the screen, her dress falling away to expose her upper thigh. She heard him growl in appreciation.

“That is an order,” he gruffed.

She slunk out from her hiding spot, but her act faded away once she set eyes on him. He was weary, having just returned from battle, she could tell from the lines etched on his face. But he had never looked more handsome than he did to her at that moment - although when in his armor he always took her breath away. Perhaps it was the knowing glint in this eye as he saw her intent or the glow of his breastplate reflecting the fire that warmed the room. Her eyes drank in the azure blue of his leather armor which perfectly set off the blood red dragons of the Empress. It was attire befitting a prince and heir to the throne.

“Your hair is getting longer, I like it,” he grinned. ”Wear it loose around your face more often.”

She sniffed. “When not required as a part of my duties.” He didn’t get to order her around like that… for the moment.

He smirked in response, he knew the game they were playing.

“Huns or the First Order?” She asked, she was alway curious about his missions.

“Huns,” he sighed, his shoulder sagging. “It’s always the Huns these days. The First Order has not been seen since the Great Victory.”

“Naughty Huns,” she grimaced. “I hope you taught them a lesson.”

“I did,” he said sagely. “Now it’s time I taught you a lesson too.”

She bit her lip, her eyes flitting to the sumptuous bed in the corner of the room. “A lesson, for me? Whatever for Captain?” The anticipation was killing her, but it was the anticipation that made it all the more pleasurable.

A smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. “Why, my dumpling, you have entered into my private chambers dressed in nothing but a flimsy, diaphanous white gown. Almost virginal - but you and I both know you are no virgin.”

She smiled slyly. 

“Indeed, Captain, you have seen to that.”

He placed his hands on his breastplate, indicating that she should assist him to disrobe.

She shook her head. 

“No,” she stated firmly.

His brow furrowed slightly. “No?”

“No, Captain. Only one of us needs to be dressed for what I have in mind, and it’s not going to be me.”

Realisation lit across his face.

“Oh my little minx, it's good to be home” he chuckled as he strode towards her. Gathering her in his arms his kiss was brutal and seeking, she met him with equal passion. He bunched the fabric of her dress in his hands, searching for her firm backside. When he found she had no undergarments, he groaned as his fingers digging into her flesh.

“I’m exhausted, my mother and the court are waiting for a full report and I am sure that Mushu’s backside smells better than I do. But I have to have you now.”

“They have no claim on you; you belong to me,” she insisted. She was already riding a tsunami of passion, the way he looked at her with such carnal intent. His mouth was now at her throat, tasting and sucking at her. She was intoxicated by the feelings he elicited; she was fast transfering from predator to prey. 

Moaning, she pressed into him, trying to grind on his leg; she needed more. The weeks in which he was gone had been unbearable; she wanted him to claim her again. To make her his. In the time since the Great Victory they had explored each other vigorously, and they were delighted to discover their approach to lovemaking and battle was the same. Energetically, with great passion, and with little regard for bumps and bruises.

He pushed down the thin sleeves of her dress, exposing her chest. “I have missed these,” he said, taking a pointed nipple into his mouth sending a bolt of desire through to the very core of her. She gripped his head to her chest as he roughly sucked each one, riding the balance between pleasure and pain. His breastplate was cold and hard against her skin compared to the supple leather of his sleeves. 

“I missed you so much,” she gasped as he slid his hand up her inner thigh to cup her mound. Her days were filled with training and her duties as personal guard to the Empress - which of course sent feathers flying in the court - but her nights were devoted to him. She understood that he needed to be sent away to defend the kingdom, it was his duty and purpose, but she ached for him during those times.

He hissed as his fingers slipped between her folds. 

“Yes, you did, my dumpling. You are well prepared for what is to come.” he growled. She swooned, gripping the pauldrons that protected his shoulders. She could feel the dragon scales etched into the leather under her fingertips. Her desire increased again; she was under his spell and ready to submit to him in any way he saw fit.

“I take it I’m in charge tonight?” His eyes devoured her breasts, then drifted up to her face again. His eyes were dark pools of intensity boring straight into her. Gods, she loved him.

She nodded and he wasted no time gripping her dress in one hand and tearing it away from her body in the other, leaving her naked before him, her breasts flushed as her chest heaved. She felt the thrill of danger; she knew he would not be gentle, for he too missed their nights together - their couplings after a reunion were always rough and frantic. It was as if a spell had been cast over her, and she was drunk on it.

He lifted her and threw her onto the bed nearby, the silk cool against her naked skin. His eyes slowly travelled down the length of her, stopping at the apex of her thighs. She leaned back on her forearms, arching her back to accentuate her toned body before allowing her legs to drop open a little more.

His fingers were at his codpiece, quickly working the leather ties free. She writhed as he pulled his length from his pants, enormous, hard, red and dripping with need. She clenched around nothing, and she thought she may lose her mind if he didn’t take her immediately.

“Dumpling, you are so wet and pink. Normally I would tend to you first, but tonight I must sink into you without any delay.”

“Please, my Lord” she gasped; she knew calling him by his title was the fastest way to drive him wild with lust. “I want you to finish inside me.”

He growled, then rolled his lips. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“Yes,” she moaned. “More than anything.”

He stood at the edge of the bed and pulled her by the ankles, dragging her body towards him until her legs dangled over the floor. He was swift, crashing her pelvis into his, sending a wave through them both. They groaned in unison, which was quickly swallowed in his rough kiss. He suckled and bit on her lip and she shuddered in pleasure. She was spread wide and open for him to accommodate the width of his armor.

He entered her with one long thrust, and it would have sent her across the bed if it was not for his fingers digging into her bare hip, so she would feel the force of him. She felt so full. He thrust again and it was brutally passionate; she was pinned beneath him, reveling in every moment. She felt the sting of her body as she adjusted around him, so worked up by now that it didn’t register as pain but as another sensation.

He continued to take her in long hard movements, and as she arched her back in pleasure, her stomach brushed up against hard metal which sent chills through her. He was so deep inside her, the grunts in time with his movements becoming shorter and more static as he quickened his pace. He was hitting that place that made her see stars, that ached for him and that only he could satisfy. Their breathing came in irregular, jagged pants and she held on his arms for dear life. Looking up at him, she could see the intensity on his face, the way his eyes bored into her and the way his raven hair moved in time with their lovemaking. By now every single part of her was tingling in excitement, as if she was filled with an electrical current.

She had waited far too long for him to plunder her like this, to gaze at the creaminess of her skin against the rich hues of his armor. To place her hands at his chest and feel the brass inlay of his breastplate. From the outside world it might appear as if she was helpless and vulnerable, but they both knew they were equals so anything she submitted to was of her own choice. He would never take anything from her she didn’t freely give.

He bent down, crushing her as he captured her bare nipple, growling as she bucked against him. Threading her fingers through his hair, she let loose with a long groan that turned into a squeal as he gave her a playful nip. 

“Cheeky,” she giggled, swatting him away. He looked up at her, laughing to himself at his good fortune at finding such joy between her legs. She clenched down on him hard to show that she too had tricks up her sleeve. His thrusting stuttered as he found it harder to move, his face contorting into a silent moan for several moments as if she stole the very breath from him.

“Just so you don’t get any cute ideas, I only agreed to marry you so I didn’t have to keep sneaking around behind the backs of court officials. Most tiresome,” she said with a nonchalance she didn’t feel.

He collapsed on top of her, clenched as she was around him. “You’ll pay for that remark,” he grunted. “Get up on all fours and present yourself to your husband, Lord and Captain.” He slipped from her and she quickly flipped around to do his bidding. She threaded her hands between her thighs to spread herself open for him.

He stood again, running his finger along her slit. She writhed, desperate to be filled. “You are so beautiful; every day with you is like a dream. Your strength, your loyalty, your determination. I love you Rey.” he said thickly.

She turned to look at him. “I love you too, Ben.”

He placed his hands on either side of her hips, and lined himself up to her entrance. His smooth hardness brushed against her. “Are you sure you want me to finish inside you?”

“Please, I want it so badly; I ache for it.”

“Dumpling, it would be my pleasure.”

He thrust into her, propelling her forward. Overcome, she collapsed on the bed with her backside in the air as he pounded her. The sound of his leather armor slapping against the back of her thighs was hypnotic. She lost all control and she felt her impending climax, moaning without shame each time he snapped his hips to her. His own grunts became more guttural and animalistic as she began to cry out. She was so full from him, and she froze as her orgasm took hold. He was relentless, drawing out each bolt of pleasure from her as wave after wave claimed her. She seemed to ride the crest forever, filled with the most intense energy. As she clenched around him, he let loose with an almighty roar as he emptied inside her, his hands gripping her. She felt his energy flow through into her, heightening her pleasure. 

Spent, he collapsed on top of her. They were both unable to speak, the sounds of their pants the only sound outside of the roaring flames. She felt as if she was floating in the air, yet was still pinned beneath him, the embellishment of his armor pressing into her. After several moments he groaned and rolled away, collapsing onto his back. He pulled her to his side, snuggling into her as he wrapped a blanket around her. He shifted to tuck himself in again. She sighed, as she knew it was well past time for him to present himself to court.

“I don’t know what I’m going to tell them. My brain has turned into a sticky bun,” he muttered. 

“Huns; _naughty_ ones that you taught a lesson,” she murmured softly. He laughed in response and then stopped himself and swore, perhaps realising it was all he had to work with.

He was silent for a moment, pondering his position.

“I think perhaps I have another plan, the court can wait. For now, here is the only place I need to be. Will you help me?

She sat up drowsily to help him with the buckles on his armor, before collapsing back onto the bed. 

“Good,” she muttered. “You belong to me.”

“The court will be most displeased, but I don’t care,” he said as he softly kissed her forehead. “You are a girl worth fighting for.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big warm thank you to everyone who read and commented/kudoed this story. I can't wait to see what the new movie brings..... oh yes that's right, I do need to wait.

**Author's Note:**

> I love kudos and comments!


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